


Outcast

by SaxonSpud



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Native American Character(s), Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 35,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21545713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaxonSpud/pseuds/SaxonSpud
Summary: Betrayed and Abandoned by her tribe and family, Nizhoni is made an outcast. She takes shelter in the old mining town of Colter, only to be found by the Van Der Linde gang. The only experience she has had of white men are the soldiers who have killed and abused other members of her family. Can she learn to trust these people, most want to help her, some will hate her because of her race and heritage.**NOTE** this story will include mature scenes and also period typical racism
Comments: 20
Kudos: 20





	1. Hok'ee

The blizzard swept through the mountains, snow covering everything in its wake. You should have read the signs. The grandfather had taught you, many moons ago what to look for on the wind. You had no excuse, except that you were hungry and tired. You had eaten three days ago, when you had hunted the wolves. You thanked the great spirit for his bounty. You felt bad for hunting more than you needed to eat, but you needed the skins if you were going to survive. Now, you were wrapped in the wolf skins, in a rickety old building. Deserted long ago, when there was nothing left in the mountains for the white man to plunder.

The fire had burnt out, the embers were no longer even glowing. It was dark now. You were warm enough in your furs, you would gather more wood when dawn broke. You tightened the fur around your body, bringing your legs up to your chest, you closed your eyes.

You were woken from your slumber, by the sound of the door opening. A large man, built not unlike a stumbling bear, came in, a lantern raised in his hand. He stared at you with angry eyes.

"A fucking savage in our camp!" He hissed, "get out, you fucking red skin," he growled, as he lumbered towards you.

You reached underneath the wolf skins, and pulled a knife from your belt, pointing the blade at him, in warning.

"You think that's gonna stop me, ya little bastard," he hissed.

He had the advantage as he was standing and you were sitting, you still swiped with your blade, nicking him. You heard him cuss, before he kicked you, sending the knife flying from your hand. Within moments, one of his large hands was clamped on your throat, squeezing tightly, whilst the other balled into a fist.

The fist made contact first with your nose, and then with your mouth. Blood started to pour from your nose. It intermingled with the blood from your lip, as it split. You tried to pull his hand away from your throat, but to no avail. It was locked around you like a vice. Your vision started to blur, as lack of oxygen numbed your senses. You heard someone yell, another man.

"Bill, what the fucking hell do you think you're doing?"

Then everything went black.

You gasped, as you sucked much needed air into your lungs. You could still taste blood, and you heard loads of voices which seemed to be chattering all at once. You opened your eyes briefly, your vision was still blurred. You closed them again and allowed the darkness to take you.

When you next woke, you were laying on a bedroll, they had taken away your wolf skins, and covered you in a blanket. You weren't cold though as you were close to a fire. The white men had also tied your wrists together behind your back, just like the soldiers had done to your sister.

You were pretty sure your sister was dead. If these white men were the same as the soldiers, you would soon be dead too. You were pretty sure you had managed to cut the first one, although not badly. You were confused though. Why didn't they just let him kill you. Perhaps they wanted to use you first, like the soldiers had used your sister.

You watched as a man approached the bedroll, he knelt down beside you, and put his large hand on your forehead. He was dark, with black hair, and black facial hair. Even his coat was black. You tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. You cussed him in your native tongue. You could understand the language of the white man, but you didn't speak it too well. Enough to get by, or so you thought.

"Steady on my little Indian brave," he smirked, "no one's gonna hurt you," he hesitated, as his thumb stroked your temple, "at least no one else is!"

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and your nostrils flared as fear and adrenaline kicked in.

You couldn't fight in your current state, all that was left was for you to beg. That had never really been your strong point, and it hadn't worked for your sister, with the soldiers.

Another man approached. He was lighter in colour. He wore a heavy blue coat, with a sheepskin lining. The thing you noticed about him, above everything else were his piercing blue eyes. He also had scars on his face, mostly covered by the rough beard.

"You reckon she understands what you're saying, Dutch?" he questioned.

The darker man, looked over his shoulder.

"I don't know, son. Guess we better find out!"

He looked back at you, his hand still gently touching your forehead.

"Do you understand me?" he asked, as he looked at you intently.

You nodded, "you let Nizhoni go," you croaked, your throat still bruised from the previous attack.

"Is that your name...Nizhoni?" he asked.

You nodded, "you not use. You not kill. You let go."

He looked at you and frowned. The other man leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

A look of surprise crossed his face, and he pulled his hand away. "Oh no Nizhoni, I wont let anyone touch you like that, or kill you!" he hesitated, "Listen, my name is Dutch, Dutch Van Der Linde, this is Arthur Morgan," he turned and pointed to the man standing behind him.

"We're just sheltering from the storm, us and our people. There's no reason for you to leave, there's room enough for everyone."

You frowned, and shook your head.

"Nizhoni is...Hok'ee. Nizhoni go. Dutch Van Der Linde let Nizhoni go." you rolled over and held your wrists out.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," Dutch began, "I wont let you walk out into this storm, you'll freeze to death!"

You rolled back over, and looked at him, tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

"Please Dutch Van Der Linde, I go. I go now," you begged, "I am Hok'ee." tears began to trickle down your cheek.

Dutch sighed, and put his hand to your cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

"I don't understand," he sighed. "What is Hok'ee? You reckon she's ill or something, Arthur?"

Arthur shrugged, "She don't look ill. Why don't I go and find Charles," Arthur suggested, "he might be able to talk to her, make her understand we're only tryin' to help."

Dutch nodded, "something ain't right. Why the hell is a young Indian girl alone in the mountains in the middle of a blizzard, and why the hell is she so keen on killing herself!"

Dutch stood there, looking at you. You returned his stare. You couldn't make him understand. It was probably too late now anyway.

You saw the other man, Arthur Morgan, walk over. You stared in horror as you saw who he was with. Another native man. This was the worst thing that could happen. You turned your head away, not even looking at him.

"Nizhoni, this is Charles, he needs to speak with you." Dutch advised.

Charles looked at you, or at least the back of your head.

"She won't talk to me Dutch, if what she told you is true." Charles stated.

Dutch turned to look at Charles, "why? What the hell is going on, what is she even doing out here in this storm?"

Charles sighed. "Hok'ee means abandoned, outcast. Her tribe will have left her here. If she survives without any help, they may take her back. She must have done something bad. They don't usually abandon women, especially not young women!" he added.

Charles knelt down and pulled off the blanket, and roughly turned you onto your stomach.

Arthur stared at you, with no wolf skins or blanket covering you, you were barely clothed. A short tunic, which finished just below your breasts, and a loincloth. Leaving your midriff bare.

"Charles! What are ya doin'?" Arthur challenged.

Charles glanced up at Arthur, then at Dutch. "I'm looking for a mark," he stated.

You started to sob, it was shameful enough to have the mark, without one of your brothers seeing it.

"Charles! That's enough," Dutch growled.

Charles stopped and put his hand on your shoulder. He started to speak in your native tongue.

" _You realise its too late now, as soon as they gave you this blanket and saved your life, it was over?" he stated._

" _I may as well die now, my life is over." you sobbed, "I am nothing without my people."_

_Charles squeezed your shoulder. "Not necessarily, these are good people. But..." he hesitated, "you must tell the truth, tell me what you did to be outcast...Abandoned."_

_You sighed, "the soldiers demanded five women from the tribe, one of them was me. I managed to escape. I didn't return to the reservation straight away, when I did the soldiers had already returned. General Favours demanded five of the Chief's best warriors be handed over. One of them was the Chief's eldest son. They were killed. When I returned, the Chief wanted me killed, but the elders overruled him, and decided I should be outcast...Abandoned in the mountains for one year. If I survived, I could return."_

_Charles nodded, "you were punished for saving yourself?"_

_You nodded, "I knew what the soldiers would do," you turned your head to look at Charles, "did I do wrong, to want to save myself?"_

_Charles shook his head, "where did they mark you? Isn't it usually visible?"_

_You looked away, and hid your face. "on my back as a courtesy."_

Charles frowned, as he ran his finger across your soft olive skin. A mark of a serpent had been burnt into the skin.

"What the hell is that?" Dutch asked angrily.

Charles touched the mark. As he did, you arched your back and whimpered. The mark was still recent and burned when he touched it. You started to sob, half with pain, half with shame.

_C_ _harles ignored Dutch for a moment, "Why the courtesy?"_

_You turned your head, and glanced at Charles, tears still falling from your eyes._

" _The Chief...he was my father."_

You turned your head, and buried it in the bedroll, as you continued to cry. Your strength had gone, now that you realised you could never go back.

Charles stood up, and turned to Dutch.

Dutch looked at Charles angrily, "What did you say to her? Why is she crying? And what's that thing on her back?" He demanded.

Charles stood and explained to Dutch and Arthur, about your tribe, the soldiers, the mark and you being abandoned. He explained, that you would now not be able to return to your tribe, and your family.

Arthur stood there listening, shaking his head in disbelief. With each revelation, Dutch looked more and more angry.

When Charles had finished, Arthur stared at him in disbelief.

"Why the fuck would anyone treat their child like that," he hissed.

Charles shrugged, "its there way," he stated, matter of factly.

"Well it ain't ours!" Dutch growled, as he walked over to you. He crouched down and pulled his knife out of its sheath, swiftly cutting through the ropes that bound your wrists.

You lay still, just quietly sobbing into the bedroll. He gently rolled you over onto your back, then wrapped his arms around you, and held you to his chest.

You didn't struggle, but just carried on crying into the strange white man's chest. The first time anyone had showed you comfort since you were taken by the soldiers.

"Now you listen to me, Nizhoni. What happened to you, may be your peoples way, but that don't make it right." Dutch began, "I...we're gonna look after you now."

Charles frowned, "are you sure about this, Dutch? What about Bill?"

Dutch rolled his eyes, "Bill will just have to get used to it. I never turn anyone away who's in need."

Dutch held you close, gently stroking your hair, and rubbing circles on your back, in an attempt to comfort you.

It was always the same when some unfortunate crossed his path. This time, though, he watched as your heart broke in front of him. All he could do, would be the same thing he had done so many times before. Be there to pick up the pieces, and find some way to put them back together.


	2. Trust

At some point you must have fallen asleep in Dutch's arms as he tried to comfort you. You'd never really trusted any white man. You assumed that every white man was like the soldiers you had encountered. When you realised you had lost everything you took comfort where you could find it.   
Dutch had carried you to an empty room and laid you on a cot, once you had fallen asleep. Covering you with a blanket and your wolf-skin cloak, he'd left you to sleep and returned to his own room, to join Molly.

  
Dutch woke in the early hours of the morning, with thoughts of you on his mind. Molly was still sleeping soundly. He quietly crept from the room and entered yours, sitting gently on the cot so as not to disturb you. You lay on your side, one arm delicately resting on the cot curled over your head. His fingers softly swept the hair from your face. He was entranced by your beauty. Even with the purple bruise that Bill had given you, you were still beautiful. He made a mental note to talk to Bill about his behaviour in the morning. Dutch carefully moved the blankets and the wolf-skin. He gazed at your scantily clad body. Admiring your flawless olive skin. Flawless except for the mark that had been burned onto your back. He took a closer look, disgusted by what they had done to you. It was still raw and he wouldn't be surprised if it was infected. He needed to gain your trust, if for no other reason than to tend to the wound on your back.  
Dutch's fingers hovered over your body. He was desperate to touch you. To feel your soft delicate skin. He glanced at your face as he watched you sleeping. Even now you were oblivious to his presence. Dutch gently ran his fingertips across the soft velvet skin of your back, being careful to avoid your wound. You moaned quietly. Your body squirmed as his fingers gently caressed your skin. He smiled as your body reacted, but you didn't wake. He rested his hand against your skin, savouring it's warmth, whilst moving his thumb gently up and down. You moaned quietly. Dutch smiled as he felt your body move, pressing against his hand. Even asleep you craved human contact. How cruel that your people had wanted you to suffer such isolation. Dutch gently pressed his lips to your temple in a chaste kiss.   
"Beautiful," he purred, as he removed his hand, and re-covered you with the blanket and wolf-skins.

  
Dutch looked over his shoulder as he heard the door opening. He was surprised to see Arthur standing there.  
"Was just gonna check on her, make sure she was alright," he hesitated, "looks like you beat me to it," Arthur whispered.  
Dutch stood up, and glanced at Arthur.  
"She's beautiful, isn't she Arthur?"  
Arthur gazed at you, and nodded, "She's stunnin', I'm worried though..."  
Dutch frowned, "worried? Why?"  
"Once we leave the mountains and head into civilisation...well it ain't gonna be easy for her, is it? There'll be plenty of people, just like Bill. All filled with hate because of who she is." Arthur replied.

Dutch sighed, "then we'll protect her," he hesitated, "you're with me on this, Arthur, ain't you?"

Arthur nodded, "Yes Dutch, I'll protect her alright. I've never seen anyone who is quite so..."

Arthur scratched his head, trying to find the right words.

"Exquisite?" Dutch suggested.

Arthur nodded, and sighed, "she was too good for them...them that done this to her."

Dutch clapped Arthur on the shoulder, "come on son, we should let her sleep. Its gonna take her a while to adjust."

He glanced down, and saw Arthur was carrying a satchel. It looked like it was made from some sort of animal skin, "What's that?"

Arthur lifted it up, "oh, I almost forgot, found this in the barn where we found her last night, guess its her stuff."

Dutch took the satchel from Arthur, and laid it on the bottom of the cot.

"Was there anything else?"

Arthur nodded, "Her knife, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows. I didn't know if you wanted her to have them yet."

Dutch sighed, "c'mon Arthur, if we want her to trust us, then we have to show her a little trust, don't you think?"

Arthur shrugged, "I guess...just don't let her shoot Williamson!" he chuckled.

Dutch shook his head, chuckling to himself. "Just go get 'em and leave them by her bed, We could use a good hunter if we're gonna survive in these mountains. Charles can't hunt right now, not with his hand all bandaged up."

The two men left the room, Dutch headed back to his room and to Molly, hoping she hadn't missed him. He really didn't want twenty questions as to where he had been.

Arthur, picked up the bow and quiver, that he had left just outside your room, and went back in. He leant them against the wall, so you would see them when you woke. He laid the knife next to the satchel at the bottom of the cot.

He stood there for a few minutes, gazing at you.

"You're too good for me," he muttered, as he left the room.

When you woke in the morning you found yourself laying on a cot, covered in your wolf skins and a blanket. The storm was no longer raging, but it was still snowing outside, and it was still bitterly cold.

You were surprised to see your satchel on the bottom of the cot. Even more surprised to see your knife laid next to it, and your bow, and the quiver full of arrows leaning against the wall.

As you swung your legs over the side of the cot, you winced. Your back was still sore. It was difficult for you to reach the wound, so you had found it difficult to tend. Maybe that had been the elders, and your fathers plan. To let you die slowly. Because without treatment, the wound would become infected, and you would surely die.

You reached into your satchel, and found some healing herbs. Crushing them into your hand, you tried to apply them. The only thing you managed to do was cause yourself more pain. You yelped, then took deep breaths waiting for the pain to subside.

You stared at the door as it opened, surprised to see a woman walk in. You had never really seen a white woman before.

"Nizhoni?" she asked.

You nodded.

She smiled at you. "Dutch sent me...to look at the wound on your back. He was worried it might be infected."

You frowned, "You Dutch's woman?"

She chuckled, "No dear, at least not any more, my name is Susan Grimshaw, I try and look after everyone," she hesitated, "may I see?"

You looked at her suspiciously, but if the white man, Dutch Van Der Linde trusted her, then maybe you could trust her too. Right now you didn't have a lot of choice.

You nodded,"You look," you replied as you leant over on the bed.

Susan walked over, and looked at the wound. It was definitely infected. She was quite surprised that you weren't running a fever.

"I think we need to bathe this first," she stated, as she turned towards the door.

Susan called through the door, "Miss Tilly, would you bring me some hot water, and cloth's please."

She walked back towards you, "we need to make sure its clean, you understand?" she asked, speaking slowly.

You nodded again.

After a short while, another woman came through the door. She was dark skinned. Her skin darker than yours.

You stood up, and quickly took a step backward.

Tilly put the bowl of hot water down on the table, and walked towards you, her hand outstretched.

"Hello, my names Tilly," she greeted, smiling.

You looked at the woman, then at her hand, and frowned.

Susan rolled her eyes, "she probably doesn't understand our ways of greeting, Tilly."

Tilly took a step backwards. You looked at her and tilted your head.

"Dutch Van Der Linde has many wives?" you asked, looking at Susan.

Tilly burst out laughing, only to be scolded by Susan.

"That's enough, Miss Tilly. No need to make fun of her, just because she doesn't understand our ways!"

"Sorry Miss Grimshaw, do you need anything else?"

Susan scowled, "No, just go and find something useful to do!"

Tilly walked out the door, glancing behind her, and grinning at you, before she closed it.

"Now, Nizhoni let me take a look at your back."

You walked back over the bed, sitting down you leant forward onto the bed, so your head was resting on your arms. You braced yourself. You were sure this would hurt, but not as much as when the elders, plunged the hot iron, onto your flesh.

You were surprised how gentle the woman, Susan, was. She gently bathed the wound, stopping for a moment when you winced, or yelped. Then she put some of the salve onto it. It hurt at first, but the cream she applied was cool, soothing the heat in the wound.

When she had finished she took a step back.

"All done, now I think you may need some more clothes," she commented.

You looked at her and shook your head, you opened the satchel and pulled out a pair of buckskin trousers.

Susan felt the material of the trousers, it was very soft to the touch.

"Did you make these, Nizhoni?" she asked.

You nodded, "I make all." you stated, as you pulled out some gloves, made of rabbit fur.

Susan smiled, "I think you're going to be very welcome here. Now why don't you get dressed, and then we'll find you something to eat."

You nodded, "Thank you, Susan Grimshaw."

She chuckled, as she headed towards the door, "just Susan will do."

You pulled on the buckskin trousers, and rabbit-skin gloves. The moccasin boots you wore, were also lined with rabbit fur, and kept the cold at bay. After wrapping the wolf-skin cloak around your shoulders, you headed for the door.

You cautiously opened the door, not wanting to come face to face with the man that had hit you.

As your peered round the edge of the door, you saw Dutch, and another man, sitting by the fire. You hadn't seen him before. He was older, with greying blond hair. He reminded you of the grandfather.

Dutch glanced towards the door, as he heard it open.

"Ahh Nizhoni, come over here, sit by the fire," he called out.

You looked over to where he and the other man were sitting. The older man, started to rise from his chair, but you walked passed him, and sat on the floor, cross-legged in front of the fire.

He sat back down, and chuckled.

"Nizhoni, this is my good friend Hosea Matthews," Dutch explained.

You looked up at the older man, then looked at Dutch.

"Why you have many wives?" you asked frowning.

Hosea, snorted and started laughing. Dutch smiled, and gently placed his hand on the top of your head, gently playing with the strands of your hair. It was strange, but kind of soothing.

"I don't have any wives, Nizhoni. They are just part of our family, like you are now."

You looked up at Hosea.

"And you Hosea Matthews, you have many wives?" you asked, curiously.

He chuckled, "No, Nizhoni. I don't have any, either."

You frowned, "Chief have many sons. No wives. How?"

Hosea scratched his head, "Nizhoni, where did you learn to speak English?"

"Soldiers took Nizhoni to fort. Nizhoni no learn. Soldiers hurt Nizhoni. Nizhoni run away." you stated.

Dutch glanced at Hosea, and lowered his voice, "she understands everything we say, but her speech is very limited."

Hosea Hummed, "perhaps I can teach you, Nizhoni?" Hosea suggested.

You looked up at him and shook your head, "No learn, no hurt Nizhoni."

Dutch removed his hand from your head, and put his fingers under your chin. He tilted your head so you were looking at him. "No one will hurt you, Nizhoni. Hosea will teach you new words, if you don't understand, we will be patient."

You looked at him, "just Susan find Nizhoni food."

Dutch chuckled, "alright Nizhoni, lets go and find you some food."

You stood up, and Dutch guided you towards the door, his hand gently resting on your shoulder.


	3. Wolves

The icy wind, when Dutch opened the cabin door, almost took your breath away. Snow was still falling, and the sudden drop in temperature made you shiver. You realised too late the amount of clothing on your upper body was too little. Whilst the wolf-skin cloak you had fashioned kept some of the chill out, when the wind blew, the scant clothing that you had on beneath it, did nothing to protect you from the elements.

You walked across the compound of the old mining town towards a small structure. It was open at the front, and it had been fashioned into a temporary cooking area. A big pot, was boiling over a fire, and several metal plates stood next to it.

A large man, with a rosy complexion stood behind one of the counters. From the smell of alcohol on his breath, you figured it wasn’t due to the cold. You hung back, keeping close to Dutch. The smell was not that dissimilar to the smell which you had smelt on soldiers in the past.

“Good morning Mr Pearson!” Dutch greeted the man, “This is Nizhoni, she’s joining us. Susan promised her some food, but she seems to have been distracted.”

Mr Pearson looked you up and down.

“Well, there’s stew in the pot, but there’s not much meat in it,” he huffed.

Dutch grabbed a couple of bowls and ladled some of the stew into them. He handed one to you with a spoon.

You sniffed the stew, suspiciously. “Nizhoni hunt. Nizhoni bring meat,” you stated.

Dutch chuckled, “I’m sure you can, but not today. We don’t want you getting caught out in another snow storm. Besides, I think we need to find you a coat or something.”

You looked out from under the cooking area. The snow was falling and the sky looked dark. It would be foolhardy to attempt to hunt today. You didn’t particularly want to wear the white man's clothes, you preferred to make your own, But you wouldn’t allow yourself to freeze through pride.

You watched as Arthur walked across the compound to where you and Dutch were standing.

“Ahh Arthur!” Dutch greeted the other man, “would you take Nizhoni to find Susan. See if she has a coat that will fit her.”

Arthur nodded, “Sure, be better to eat that stew inside anyhow,” he added.

Dutch looked at you and smiled, “Arthur will look after you, come back to the cabin, when you’re done.”

Dutch looked at Arthur, “best to avoid the cabin where Mr Williamson is billeted!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “C’mon Nizhoni, I’ll take you to find Susan, and you can meet some of the other women.”

  
Unlike Dutch, Arthur didn’t touch you as you walked across to yet another building. He did speak though.

“Did you find your stuff OK?” he asked.

You frowned, “You bring Nizhoni bow, and knife?”

Arthur smiled, “sure, they’re yours ain't they?”

You frowned, “you trust Nizhoni?”

Arthur chuckled, “yeah, I trust ya, question is, do you trust me?”

You reached the door to the other cabin, and Arthur stopped in front of it. He leaned his hand on the door, and looked down at you. “Well?” He asked.

You looked at him, and tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. After a few moments you nodded.

“Nizhoni trust Arthur Morgan,” you replied.

Arthur smiled, “ok then, lets get the food inside you, and find you a coat!”

  
Arthur opened the door, and gestured for you to go in, following just behind you.

As you entered the cabin, you stopped, as the chattering voices became silent. You scanned the room to see everyone staring at you.

Arthur broke the silence.

“C’mon Nizhoni, sit down and eat. I’ll go find Susan,” he suggested.

As he ushered you to a seat, a little boy came running over.

“Hi, I’m Jack!” he exclaimed.

Before you could answer, a woman came over and grabbed the boy.

“Jack, get away from her, go and sit down,” she scolded.

She scowled at Arthur, “I can’t believe you brought that...that savage in here, near my son!”

Arthur glared at her, “Abigail, she’s a human being, that needs our help, you should watch what you say!” he growled.

Hosea, who was standing across the room, walked over.

“She didn't mean anything by it, Arthur. She’s just worried.” he explained.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “worried about what!”

“Its John, he ain't been seen for two days, please Arthur...I need you to go look,” she wailed.

Arthur shook his head, “after how you just behaved, why should I!”

Abigail lowered her head, “I...I’m sorry, I’m just real worried.”

Arthur scowled at her, “It ain’t me you should be apologising to, is it?”

You sat watching the conversation between the two people. After you’d finished eating the food, you stood up and walked over to Arthur. You tapped him on the arm.

“Nizhoni track. Find...” You hesitated, trying to find the right word.

“Find the idiot,” Arthur concluded, “sure lets see what you got!”

Hosea nodded, “take Javier as well, just in case you run into trouble.”

Arthur frowned, “what sort of trouble?”

Hosea shrugged, “I don't know, wild animals, O’Driscolls. Take your pick!”

Arthur scowled, “Indians!”

Hosea crossed his arms, “that's not what I meant, and you know it, Arthur.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “C’mon Nizhoni, lets find you a jacket.”

  
He headed off into a back room, returning relatively quickly, followed by Susan.

“Here,” she said, holding out a thick jacket, “this should fit.”

She passed you a leather fur lined jacket. You quickly took off the wolf skins, and put the jacket on, then draped the cloak back around your shoulders.

You walked to the door, and glanced back.

“Nizhoni get bow and knife.”

You opened the door, and headed out across the compound to your cabin. You quickly went to your room, grabbed your satchel, knife and bow. As you walked back out, Dutch stood there.

“Nizhoni, I told you no hunting today.” he scolded.

You folded your arms and stared at him.

“Nizhoni not hunt, Nizhoni track idiot!” you retorted.

Dutch started to laugh, “ok, I hope young Mr Marston appreciates what your doin’!”

You frowned, as you headed for the door. You didn't see what was so funny.

  
When you walked out of the cabin, Arthur and Javier, were already mounted on their horses.

Arthur called out to you, “c’mon, Nizhoni. You can ride with me.”

You looked at him and shook your head, “Nizhoni have horse!”

You let out shrill whistle and waited.

The two men stared as a white Arabian came galloping into the compound, sliding to a stop next to where you stood.

“Is that yours!” Arthur exclaimed, “It ain't got no saddle or bridle!”

You walked up to the horse, and patted its neck, before, grabbing its mane, and vaulting on to its back. Once mounted you reached into your saddlebag, and brought out, a light rope bridle, which you put on the horse.

Javier chuckled, “where did you find her, amigo?” he asked.

Arthur smiled, “we didn't find her, she found us!”

  
You headed out in the direction which Arthurs friend, John, was last thought to have gone. It didn't take you long to pick up a trail of hoof prints. Given the current weather, it was unlikely to be anyone else’s horse but his. After riding for a while, you saw an abandoned campsite, which the three of you headed for. Arthur quickly jumped off his horse, and examined the remains of the fire.

“Could be John,” he surmised. “Who-ever it is, they’ve not been gone more than a couple of hours!”

You looked at the sky, it was beginning to snow heavily again.

“hurry,” you ordered, “snow cover tracks!”

Arthur looked at the sky, and nodded. Quickly climbing back on his horse.

  
You carried on tracking the hoof prints, until you saw a horse in the distance. You could tell from afar, that it was dead. Once you reached it you looked at the carcass, which had bled out.

You frowned, “Wolf,” you stated. “Near!”

Javier fired his gun in the air, it made you flinch. You had never liked the sound of gunshot, as it was usually made by angry soldiers, and resulted in death. Usually of one of your brothers or sisters.

You heard a voice echo on the air, and you pointed, kicking your horse on. You reached then edge of a crevasse, and dismounted.

“Leave horse,” you advised, and headed down a narrow path.

Javier and Arthur dismounted. They carried on shouting John’s name, and he kept yelling back.

Eventually you found him, at the bottom of a ledge.

You jumped down, and looked at him. His leg was badly bitten, and he had several gashes across his face all bleeding.

“Wolf bite, much blood” you stated.

John groaned, and glanced up at Arthur, “Dutch recruitin’ savages now, is he!”

“Watch your mouth, Marston,” Arthur growled, as he hauled him up the ledge.

Javier rolled his eyes, “You’re lucky, Amigo. Without her, you would have died out here!”

  
Javier put John over his shoulder, whilst Arthur, helped you up from the ledge.

Once you reached the horses, you heard a howl on the air.

“Many Wolves,” you warned, as you pointed to a cliff, a little way from where the horses were.

“Javier, you get John out of here. We’ll deal with the wolves.”

You watched as Javier put John on his horse, and headed back the way you had come. Arthur pulled out a shot gun, and you readied your bow.

As the wolves came charging towards you, you let fly an arrow, killing the first one instantly. Arthur dispatched the other two, with his shotgun.

He smiled at you, “Nice shootin’ Nizhoni!”

You both quickly mounted your horses, and headed after Javier and John. You hadn’t gone very far, when you heard more howls.

“More!” you yelled, readying your bow.

Four wolves came running after you. You took down one, and Arthur took out two of them with his shotgun, you were beginning to get used to the sound of gunfire. The fourth however, came close to your horse, spooking her. She reared up, depositing you in the snow. The wolf was upon you, before you were able to nock another arrow. Instead, you pulled your knife, thrusting it into the beast, but not before its teeth had pierced your shoulder.

You heard the sound of a gunshot, and the wolf fell limp on top of you. You pulled out the knife, and pushed the carcass to one side.

  
Arthur was off his horse, and by your side in a split second.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, when he saw the blood, covering your body.

You sat up, wincing slightly, “Wolf blood!”

Arthur held out his hand, which you took. You didn't mention the bite on your shoulder, although you could feel the warmth on your skin, as blood started to pool inside your jacket.

“C’mon,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief, “you better ride with me, I reckon your horse is long gone!”

You looked around, and were inclined to agree.

As you rode back, you could feel yourself becoming weaker. A couple of times almost slipping from Arthurs horse. Arthur must have noticed it too.

“That ain't just wolf’s blood, is it Nizhoni?” he scolded.

“Nizhoni savage, Arthur Morgan leave Nizhoni, Nizhoni die on mountain,” you groaned, as the pain in your shoulder became more intense.

Arthur pulled his horse up,

“Javier, hold up! God-damn wolf bit her!” he yelled.

Arthur jumped off his horse, and steadied you, moving you to the front of the saddle.

“You ain't no savage, and I ain't gonna let you die, you understand?” he growled.

He mounted his horse, and wrapped his arm around you, making sure you didn't fall.

“C’mon Javier, lets get a move on, get these two back before they bleed out!” he yelled.


	4. A Savage

By the time you arrived back at Colter, you were barely conscious. Only managing to stay on the Arthurs horse, due to his grip around your waist.

As Arthur and Javier approached the cabins, Arthur yelled out for help, as did Javier.

Susan was the first one to emerge from the cabin, closely followed by Hosea.

“We found John he’s been mauled by wolves, then we got attacked again, and Nizhoni’s been bit, its quite bad!” Arthur confirmed.

Susan assessed the situation quickly.

“Javier, bring John in here. Hosea, get the reverend and you deal with John. Arthur, take Nizhoni to her room, I’ll be along in a moment with Tilly.”

All the men nodded in agreement.

Arthur dismounted and carried you from his horse.

“Nizhoni walk,” you mumbled.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “sure,” he scoffed dismissively, as he carried you bridal style to the cabin.

He kicked open the door with his foot, making Dutch, who was on the other side of the door, look around, somewhat startled.

“What the hell happened?” Dutch barked, when he saw you being carried, and blood covering your cloak.

“Wolves,” Arthur replied, “its not all her blood, but she has been bit. Not sure how bad it is, she didn't tell me until she nearly fell of the horse,” Arthur huffed, as he carried you into your room.

  
Arthur gently laid you down on the cot, and started to remove your clothing. It was only after he removed the cloak and saw the bite mark in the jacket you were wearing, that he realised how bad it was.

“Shit!” he groaned, “its worse than I thought.

Dutch glared at Arthur, “How did this happen, I thought you were supposed to be looking after her?” he growled.

“I wasn’t expecting to run into a pack of angry wolves, or for her horse to spook!” Arthur retorted.

Dutch frowned, “Horse? What horse? I didn't know she had one!” he exclaimed.

Arthur sighed, “me neither, but it was a flighty Arab, could have been The Count’s sister. Dumped her and legged it as soon as the god-damn wolves got close.”

Arthur finished removing the coat, you didn't offer any resistance. To be fair you barely realised that he was removing your clothes.

Arthur opened his satchel, and removed a bottle of whisky. He tilted your head.

“Nizhoni, you need to drink this,” he said, as he put the bottle to your lips.

You took a large gulp of the whisky and started to cough.

“Arthur Morgan hurt Nizhoni. Nizhoni throat burn!” you croaked, in between coughing.

Arthur smirked, “I ain't hurtin’ ya. The burn will pass, it’ll help with the pain. You trust me don’t ya?”

You nodded, you didn't have much choice.

Arthur took your hand and squeezed it, “don’t worry, I’ll stay with you,” he soothed.

You glanced at Arthur, then over at Dutch.

“Nizhoni sorry,” you whispered.

Dutch walked over and sat on the edge of the cot. He cupped your cheek in his hand.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, you saved John’s life from what I hear’” he soothed.

You moved your head, pressing your cheek into the palm of his hand, thankful for the contact and warmth of another human being.

“Yeah and he didn’t deserve it, miserable bastard,” Arthur muttered.

Dutch frowned as he looked at Arthur.

“What are you talking about? I know you and John don't always see eye to eye...” Dutch started.

“He called her a savage, so did Abigail,” Arthur sighed, “She...Nizhoni, wanted me to leave her on the mountain...to die!”

  
Dutch closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Arthur could see the vein popping on his forehead, as he tried to contain his anger.

After a few moments, Dutch stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Now you listen to me, Nizhoni, and you listen good. You ain't no savage, and anyone who calls you that...you let me know, do you understand.”

You bit your bottom lip, “Nizhoni sorry, Nizhoni no want trouble,” you begged.

Dutch moved his hand, from your cheek to your forehead, gently brushing your temple with his thumb.

“They’ll be no trouble Nizhoni,” he soothed, “you do trust me, don't you?”

You nodded, then glanced towards the door, as Susan came in with Tilly.

  
Susan walked towards the cot, and smiled at you.

“I’m sorry, Nizhoni. I won’t lie to you, but this is going to hurt,” she soothed.

She pulled a piece of wood from her pocket.

“You can bite down on this,” she suggested, as she put the wood in your mouth.

“Now gentlemen,” she continued. “If your going to stay, then I suggest you stand near her head, so I can get to work!”

Dutch stood up, and move around to the other side. Arthur continued to hold your hand, and you gripped on to his hand tightly.

  
At first in wasn't too bad, as Susan cleaned the wound and wiped away some of the excess blood from your skin. Even when the gunpowder went in, it didn't hurt that much.

That was until the flame hit the gunpowder, to cauterize the wound, you screamed, cried and sobbed, through the wood, that you were biting down on.

Susan held your shoulder down firmly, whilst she stitched the wound. Arthur squeezed your hand, and Dutch gently stroked your face. Both men trying to soothe you as best they could, as your breath came in gasps.

Once Susan had finished stitching, she bandaged the wound, and took the piece of wood from your mouth.

“I’m sorry Nizhoni, but its all done now, just rest.”

You closed your eyes, and released your grip on Arthurs hand. He gently placed your hand on the cot.

“Someone should sit with her,” Susan whispered.

  
“I will.”

All eyes snapped to Abigail, who stood in the door way.

“I was wrong, and I’m sorry. Let me sit with her, please,” she begged.

Arthur frowned, “what about John?”

“He’s an Idiot,” Abigail scoffed.

Dutch nodded, “let Abigail sit with her, Arthur. I need to talk to you and Hosea anyway.”

Susan headed towards the door, closely followed by Dutch and Arthur.

Abigail, sat on the edge of the cot.

Susan had left a bowl of cold water and some cloths.

Abigail gently soaked one of the cloths and put it across your forehead.

You opened your eyes, briefly.

“Its OK, Nizhoni,” Abigail whispered, “just rest.”

You reached out your hand, to Abigail, and she took it in hers.

“Nizhoni, no hurt boy” you whispered.

Abigail smiled, “yes Nizhoni, I know, I’m sorry, you’re a good person.”

Abigail squeezed your hand, and gently placed it on the cot, “now rest,” she whispered.

You closed your eyes, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

  
When you next woke, you were cold. Yet you had beads of sweat running down your face. The bite on your shoulder was throbbing.

Abigail was gone, instead Hosea and Susan talked in hushed voices. When Susan saw you had woken, she came over and sat on the edge cot. She gently tilted your head, and put a cup to your lips. Your mouth and lips felt dry, so you gratefully drank the water.

“Nizhoni, cold,” you mumbled.

Susan glanced over he shoulder, and looked at Hosea, who had a concerned look on his face.

“Hosea, can you find me another blanket?” Susan asked.

Hosea nodded, and left the room.

Susan looked back at you on the bed, she took the cloth from your forehead. She soaked it in the bowl of cold water, wringing it out, before gently wiping the sweat from your face.

“Try and rest, Nizhoni. You have a fever,” she soothed.

You sighed, you had seen people in your tribe when they had a fever. It didn't usually end well.

“Nizhoni die, bury with ancestors?” You asked.

  
“Nobody is dyin’” Dutch boomed, as he walked through the door, carrying another blanket.

“Susan, please go and find Hosea, he’s mixing up some medicine.”

Susan stood up and headed towards the door.

Dutch covered you with another blanket, and took Susan's place, seated on the edge of the cot.

He pressed his hand to your cheek. When he felt the heat, you saw the concerned look on his face.

You took your hand from under the blanket, and put your hand on his.

“Great Spirit come for Nizhoni, Dutch Van Der Linde bury Nizhoni with Ancestors?...Please?” You begged.

Dutch put his other hand, on your cheek, cupping your face in his hands.

“You ain't goin’ nowhere Nizhoni. I ain’t gonna let anyone take you anywhere, least of all some god-damn great spirit,” he whispered.

Dutch gentle pressed his lips to your forehead, in a gentle kiss.

You looked at Dutch and frowned.

“Dutch Van Der Linde care for Nizhoni? Why?” you asked.

Dutch took his hands from your face, and gently put your hand back under the blanket. He pulled the blanket up, so it was just under your chin, covering your whole body, except for your face.

He rested his hand on your head, gently stroking your forehead with his thumb.

“Because,” Dutch whispered, “you’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful. Nizhoni name in white man tongue.” You stated.

“Do you know what it means?” he asked.

You shook your head, it was the one thing you never really understood. Your father had named you and your brothers and sisters. They were named from nature, Gaagii – Raven, Nascha – Owl, and Niyol – Wind, why were you different.

Dutch smiled at your innocence,

“It’s a feeling, a sense. It’s different for each person. Some find the sunset beautiful, or the ocean, or a flower. Its when something, or someone possesses qualities which give great pleasure. For me, that’s you. When I look at you. You are beautiful to me,” he explained.

You felt a warmth in your face, which was nothing to do with the fever.

  
Before you could ask anymore questions, Hosea came in, closely followed by Susan.

Hosea handed Dutch a cup, then looked at you.

“It’ll taste bad, but it will make you better,” he explained.

Dutch gently tilted your head, and put the cups to your lips. You took a sip, and grimaced. It tasted foul. You shook your head.

“C’mon, you have to drink it all.” Dutch coaxed.

You drank some more of the foul tasting liquid.

“Now rest,” Dutch whispered as he handed the cup back to Hosea.

You closed your eyes, whatever was in the liquid had made you drowsy, and you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.


	5. Never trust a white man

You weren’t quite sure how long you had the fever for. The medicine which Hosea had made must have helped somewhat. Every time you drifted back into consciousness, there would be someone different sitting with you. Susan, Abigail, or Hosea. Occasionally Tilly would be there, but not Dutch or Arthur. Whoever it was, would give you more of the horrible medicine, that you didn't want, but you were too weak to fight, so you ended up drinking it, then drifting off again. As the fever broke, the throb in your shoulder began to subside.

When you woke up properly for the first time, Susan was watching over you. You tried to sit.

“Oh no you don’t,” Susan scolded, and her hand firmly rested on your good shoulder.

The fight that had kept you alive, wasn’t going to work in regard to you sitting up, not if Susan Grimshaw had anything to do with it.

You sighed, “Nizhoni Hunt, Nizhoni get food!”

Susan chuckled, “Don’t worry about that, Charles and Arthur brought in a couple of deer, whilst you were still out of it!”

You sighed again, “Nizhoni no good.”

Susan frowned at you, “don’t you dare say that, you saved John’s life, from what I’ve heard, and put your own on the line, besides there’ll be plenty of opportunity for you to hunt, once you’ve healed properly!” she scolded.

You looked down at your shoulder, it wasn’t hurting that much anymore.

“Nizhoni heal, Nizhoni sit!” you argued.

Susan rolled her eyes, “It may not hurt, but its still healing. You need to eat something, besides we’ll be leaving soon,” she added.

You stared at Susan in horror.

“Nizhoni stay, Nizhoni not leave mountain!” you exclaimed.

Susan gently touched your hand, “you can’t stay here, sweetheart. You’ll be safe with us, don’t worry.”

You shook your head, and tried to sit. “White man hate Nizhoni. Soldier hurt, Soldier kill!” you sputtered.

Susan gently pressed on your shoulder again.

“Not all white men hate you, we don't hate you, we’ll look after you. Besides, you’re too weak to be by yourself.”

She was wrong. You had survived in the mountains before. Three days before you ran into these people. You could do it again.

You weren't convinced that they could protect you. If the soldiers found you, that would be it. You’d escaped once, you doubted you would be able to escape a second time, if they caught you. Besides, if they caught you, they would probably kill you, after they’d had their fun.

No, you would have to leave, before these people left the mountain. You would miss them, they had been good to you, but you knew they were the exception. Most white men were like the first one who found you here. Bill, who thought you were a savage, and just wanted to kill you. In the mountain, you would only have to worry about wolves. Once these people had left, you could return here. It was good for shelter.

You looked at Susan, it was a shame, she had been kind, but you had to get out of here.

“Nizhoni have food?” You asked.

She smiled at you, “Of course, you haven't eaten for days, I’ll find you something. Then we must get some warm clothes on you, ready for the journey.”

You nodded, as she stood up and headed for the door. She glanced behind her, as she walked out, double checking you were resting. You pretended to, until she closed the door.

You pushed yourself up, until you were sitting. Your shoulder was just a dull ache. You glanced around the room, and saw your cloak, jacket, trousers and boots.

The cloak and Jacket were still covered in dried blood. They would have to do for now.

As you swung your legs over the side of the cot, your head began to spin. You ignored it, and attempted to stand. Your legs almost gave way beneath you, but you steadied yourself by holding onto the edge of the cot. You waited for a wave of nausea to pass, and let go of the bed, and staggered across to the chair. This was going to be harder than you thought, but you had to do it.

You pulled on your clothes, and scanned the room to find your bow, your knife, and your satchel.

You really could have done with something to eat first, but if you didn't leave soon, it would be too late.

You opened the bedroom door, a crack, and peered out. The outer room was empty. Not even the fire was lit.

Creeping quietly into the outer room, you steadied yourself against the wall. With every step you felt yourself becoming more steady on your feet.

With your back to the wall, you glimpsed out of one of the front windows, being careful not to be seen. You were surprised to see several wagons being loaded up. Everyone was busying themselves getting ready to leave. They would be leaving sooner rather than later. Now was the perfect time for you to slip quietly away.

You crouched down, so as not to be seen through the window, and headed to the room that was on the opposite side of the cabin to yours. You were thankful that not only was it empty, but there was also a window. With much pushing and prying, you managed to open it.

You eased yourself through it, and landed onto the soft snow beneath.

You crept round the back of the next structure. You were pretty sure it was the building where you had first met Abigail.

Once you had passed this one, you looked to where the wagons were waiting. There seemed to be enough distance from the last wagon, for you to risk the main path out of colter. Everyone was so busy loading, you doubted that anyone would notice a loan figure heading out of the camp.

You slipped from behind the cabin onto the main path, with one final glance behind you at the wagons, you headed away from colter.

You didn't get far however, when you heard your name being called.

“Nizhoni?” Dutch yelled, as he looked down the trail. He thought it was you, but why the hell were you out here, when you should be resting. More to the point why were you heading into the mountains!

“Nizhoni! Stop!” he yelled out again.

You didn't stop, you glanced quickly over your shoulder, and started to run. That's if you could call it a run, it was more of a stagger.

You heard the sound of footsteps, gaining on you. You tried to run faster, but you couldn’t. In your weakened state, you could barely keep the pace you were at. Your chest began to felt tight and your breathing became laboured, coming in gasps, and still he was gaining on you.

Before you knew it, you felt arms wrapping around you. Pinning your arms to your side, and stopping your escape.

“What do you think your doing? Where the hell do you think you’re going,” Dutch questioned you.

You struggled in his grasp, but even if you had your full strength, you wouldn’t have been able to get away. He was too strong, and you were too small. You didn’t really stand a chance.

You gasped for breath, the running had sapped all your strength.

“Please,” you gasped, “Nizhoni n… not leave m… mountain,” you stuttered.

You felt his breath on your neck, as he whispered in your ear.

“I’m not leaving you here, Nizhoni. I care too much for you. You’re coming with me, even if I have to tie you up.” Dutch whispered.

Then you felt something you didn't expect. His lips on the side of your neck.

You trembled, and not with cold.

“Now, are you gonna behave, or do I have to tie you up?” Dutch threatened.

“Nizhoni come,” you muttered.

Dutch nodded, and released his grip on you, releasing your arms. He put his hand on the small of your back, as you both headed back towards the wagons.

You’d only gone a few yards, when you saw your chance, and made another break for freedom.

You had caught your breath, so you quickly spun around, and made another run for it.

It wasn’t a very clever thing to do. Although you caught Dutch by surprise, you didn't get more than a few yards, before he had his arms wrapped round you again.

Dutch chuckled, “you’re a stubborn little lady, ain’tcha

You squirmed and struggled, but to no avail.

“Please, white man hate Nizhoni, Nizhoni stay in mountain!” you begged.

He lifted you up, and started to carry you back to the wagons, his arms, once again pinning yours to your sides.

“No one’s gonna hurt ya, I’m gonna look after you.” he concluded.

You kicked your legs, in an attempt to get free.

“That's enough, Nizhoni. You ain't stayin’ here!” Dutch scolded you.

As you reached the wagons, you noticed a red headed woman glaring at you. You hadn’t seen her before.

“Dutch, what are you doing with that...that...” she started.

Dutch quickly interrupted her, “Molly… Miss O’Shea, this is Nizhoni, she’s coming with us.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to, why don’t you just let her go, she don’t belong with us anyway!” Molly huffed.

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “I’ll be the judge of that, now run along and get in the wagon that's carrying John. Abigail may need some help, we have a long journey ahead of us!”

Molly glared at you, then her expression softened, and she looked at Dutch.

“I thought I was riding with you, Dutch?” she questioned.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “then you thought wrong, Miss O’Shea!”

He walked passed her, heading towards the front of the row of wagons.

You’d stopped struggling. If you tried to run again, then it wouldn’t be just Dutch chasing you. You glanced across, and saw the man who had tried to kill you, Bill. He was manhandling someone else, who was tied up. Given the chance, you figured he’d try and kill you again.

You watched, as the poor wretch, was chucked into the back of a wagon. You then saw his eyes on you.

“You want any help with that…” He hesitated, “that one?” Bill asked.

Dutch chuckled, “I don't think so Bill, I got this.”

You were relieved, you hoped that Dutch would be more gentle, even if he did do as he had threatened, and tie you up.

“Arthur, come over here a minute, and bring some rope!” Dutch called out.

You hadn’t even seen Arthur, during your failed bid for freedom. Now you watched, as he walked over to where Dutch had you restrained.

“What’s goin’ on?” Arthur asked, frowning.

“She decided she wanted to stay in the mountains, rather than come with us.” Dutch explained.

Arthur shook his head, “she wouldn’t last five minutes, not in her current state!”

Dutch nodded, “you try telling her that!”.

He put you on the ground, allowing you to stand, then released your arms, only for them to be captured by Arthur, who bound your wrists together, in front of you.

You sighed, “Nizhoni Prisoner. Like soldiers.” you lowered your head, resigned to your fate.

Dutch put his finger under your chin, and tilted it upward so you were looking at him.

“We ain’t nothin’ like the soldiers, we ain’t gonna hurt you. You know that Nizhoni, don’t you? This is for your own good.”

You didn’t answer, you just narrowed your eyes. All white men were the same, using force to get what they wanted.

You saw Hosea walk across to where you were standing.

“You can understand why she wanted to stay, all that civilisation, where we’re headed. Its not like they’re gonna welcome her with open arms!” Hosea concluded.

Dutch sighed, and glared at Hosea, “that ain't helping, Hosea!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and jumped into the back of the wagon.

“C’mon, hand her up here, and I’ll secure her in the back,” he huffed.

Dutch put his hands around your waist, and lifted you so you were sitting on the back of the wagon. From there, Arthur grabbed you, and pulled you towards the front of the wagon. There were some blankets which he laid you down on, then he took your arms and raised them above your head, securing your bound wrists to a metal ring on the wagon.

After he was done, he covered you with a blanket.

“Ain’t gonna take no chances of you tryin’ to jump off the back,” he concluded.

You just glared at him, your lips tightly pinched together.

He gently put his hand on your cheek, but you pulled away.

“ _Bastard!”_ You hissed in your native tongue.

Arthur chuckled, “I don't know what you just said, but I’m guessing it ain’t very nice.”

He jumped off the back of the wagon, “this is for your own good, ya know that don’t ya?”

You turned your head away, you’d thought Arthur was your friend, Dutch too. It seemed like you were wrong. You would never trust a white man again.


	6. Out of the mountains

It wasn't long after you had been tied to the wagon, that the convoy rolled out. You didn't have much choice, other than to lay where Arthur had put you, your wrists bound, and secured above your head. You weren’t able to see much either, other than the sky.

The track that the wagons took, was bumpy to say the least. The blankets which you lay on, didn’t give you much protection, as you were thrown around, your back taking the brunt. You grunted a few times, as the wheels of the wagon hit a rock, or went down a pot hole.

Dutch looked behind to check on you, a couple of times, asking if you were ok. You completely ignored him, so after the second time, he didn't bother to ask.

  
About half-way through the journey, you heard Dutch call out to a couple of the men, sending them off the scout ahead. Whilst they rode next to the wagon, one of them, a blonde haired man, kept winking at you. You just glared back. From the conversation he was having with Dutch, you gleaned that his name was Micah, the other rider, a young black man, was called Lenny. You hadn’t come across them in the camp at Colter. You wondered how many other people there might be.

  
As the convoy descended from the mountain, the climate became warmer. The wagons were just fording a river, when you heard a lot of swearing and cussing.

The wagons all stopped momentarily, and it was Arthur's voice you heard above most of the others. The wagon that him and Hosea were on, had lost a wheel. The convoy continued, Arthur yelling that they would catch up. It was only a short while later, that the wagons turned off the road, and into a wooded area, then into a clearing.

The wagon came to a halt.

Dutch and Pearson jumped off, and you were left in the back of the wagon, still tied up. You were, however grateful, that the bumping around had stopped.

  
No one came to untie you, the winter clothes you wore, overheating you in the mild climate. You had no option but to lay there, sweat slowly running down your face. You closed your eyes, waiting. You knew in your heart you were right to mistrust these white men.

The sound of another wagon approaching caused you to open your eyes momentarily. You heard Dutch’s voice in the distance calling out to Hosea. You closed them again, then you heard someone climb into the back of the wagon.

You felt the blanket being thrown from you.

“Nizhoni, why didn’t you say something?” Charles scolded you.

He took off the wolf skin cloak and unbuttoned the coat.

“take ropes?” you asked.

Charles shook his head, “I’m sorry Nizhoni, I can’t. I’ll go and find Dutch. See what he says.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. You would have been better off if you had died in the mountains, or been killed by Bill.

  
Surprisingly, you didn't have to wait long. You felt the movement of someone climbing into the back of the wagon.

“C’mon, lets get you out of here.” Arthur chimed, as he cut the rope securing you to the wagon, but not the one that secured your wrists together.

Once he had helped you down off the wagon, you held your wrists out to him, hoping that he would cut the ropes which bound them.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Not yet, Nizhoni. Don’t want you running off now, do we?”

Your dropped your arms, and lowered your head, as Arthur guided you into the camp, his hand firmly gripping your good shoulder. All the bumping about in the back of the wagon, hadn’t done the wound from the wolf bite, any favours. You said nothing though. You were convinced now that these men were no better than the soldiers. The more you fought them, the harder they would be on you. In the end, they would do with you as they wanted. So you kept your head down, and said nothing.

  
Arthur guided you to where Dutch was standing, in front of a large tent.

“Ahh, Nizhoni!” he exclaimed.

You didn't look up. You just waited, whatever he wanted to do, he would do. He had made that clear in the mountains.

“Now, are you going to behave yourself, and not run off?” he questioned.

You nodded, silently. Without raising your head.

You watched as he pulled a knife, and sliced through rope. The remnants of the rope, drop to the floor. Your arms dropped to your sides, ignoring the rope burns that marked your wrists.

Dutch took hold of one of your hands.

“We should ask Susan to take a look at this,” he suggested.

You still didn't answer, keeping your eyes on the ground.

You heard him sigh, then felt his fingers under your chin, as he tilted your head up.

Your eyes were glassy, with unshed tears which you refused to cry.

“Nizhoni, I know your upset, but this was only done for your own good. You would have died up in the mountains,” he stated.

You remained silent, you expression blank.

Dutch waited a few moments, to see if he would get a response, when he got none, he removed his hand.

“Anyway, there's a tent setup for you, why don't you settle in. All your stuff is in there,” he pointed towards a tent, next to his.

You stood in front of him, not moving.

“Go on, your free to wander around camp, get your bearings. I think its best if when you venture out you go with some one, just check with me first,” he explained.

You nodded, and walked towards the tent.

  
You peered inside, there was a cot, a table next to it, a chair in the corner, and a chest. Your satchel was laid on the chair, along with your knife and your bow. You decided to close the tent flap, not that it would keep anyone out, but maybe they would leave you alone.

You pulled off your boots, and the jacket. You wouldn’t be needing those, unless you went back into the mountains, so you put them into the empty chest.

You laid down on the cot, it was better than the ground. You laid on arm across your face, and let the other hang over the edge of the cot.

You didn't sleep, you were too confused to sleep. If they were going to use you like the soldiers used your sister, then you wished they would just get on with it.

  
You heard the tent flap open, but you didn't move, or look. You silently prayed to the great spirit that your death would be a swift one.

“Nizhoni, sweetheart. Are you ok?” Susan asked, as she sat on the edge of the cot.

You didn't respond, you just lay there, with your arm still covering your face.

Susan lifted your hand that was dangling over the side of the cot, to examine your wrist, but you grabbed it away, and held it to your body.

Susan sighed, “I’ll come and see you later, would you like some food?”

You shook your head, without bothering to uncover your face.

Susan stood up and walked towards the door. You heard the sound of the canvas moving as she left the tent, then hushed voices just outside. You could still just about hear what was being said.

“Is she ok?” Dutch asked.

“What do you think!” Susan retorted, “was it really necessary to tie her up, any trust she had has gone! She won’t even eat, although she must be starving!”

“I’ll talk to her,” Dutch replied.

“No, leave her alone, you’ll probably only make things worse,” Susan huffed.

You heard her heavy footfall, as she walked away.

Listening carefully, after several moments, you heard more footsteps, which you assumed to be Dutch’s, walking away from the entrance to your tent.

You carried on listening, but all you could hear was the sound of an axe on wood, and birds chirping. You let yourself relax a little, allowing yourself to gently doze off.

  
You woke with a start, to a hand touching your arm. You catapulted yourself to the back of the cot, wrapping your arms around yourself, and hugging your knees to your chest. Just because you knew what the white men were capable of, didn't mean you weren't frightened. A death in the mountain would be preferable to this. You wondered how your father could allow this, why he didn't do more to fight for your sister and for you. You already knew the answer to that. Because you weren’t male. Females of the tribe, were only good for trade, or marriage. Now the only trade was with the white man. Women to stop the soldiers from killing the young men of the tribe.

You stared across the dimly lit tent. The sun had gone down, and there was a lantern hanging from the cross beam.

Hosea sat on the edge of the cot, one hand up in mock surrender, the other holding a bowl of food.

“I bought you some food, I thought you might be hungry,” he whispered, his brow furrowed in confusion.

You stared at him, fear in your eyes, your back pressed to the canvas of the tent.

You quickly shook your head.

Hosea put the bowl of food on the table.

“What’s the matter Nizhoni? No one is going to hurt you,” Hosea assured you.

You shook your head, “Nizhoni prisoner. Nizhoni not trust white man.”

Hosea sighed, “We’re your friends, we only want to help you.”

You shook your head again.

“Friend not hurt. Nizhoni hurt!” you held out your arm, and showed him the rope burn on your wrist.

“Not friend. Nizhoni prisoner now. White man hurt. White man take. White man kill. Like soldier,” you asserted.

Hosea frowned and shook his head. He rubbed his hand back and forth across his mouth, as he thought about what you had said, and how he could convince you.

He pulled a jar from his pocket, and put it on the bed.

“Put this salve on your wrists, it’ll help them to heal, and take away some of the discomfort,” he hesitated, “if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't bring you food, or medicine for your wrists.”

Hosea stood up, and walked towards the exit. When he reached the tent flap, he turned and looked at you.

“If you were truly a prisoner, Nizhoni, we wouldn’t have left you with a knife and a bow. You’re right though, friends don't hurt each other, it was wrong of us to tie you up, But it was also wrong of you to sneak off into the mountains, without saying goodbye!” He stated, as he left the tent.

  
You stared at Hosea as you watched him leave, then looked at the jar he left on the bed.

You crept forward from the corner of the cot, and grabbed the jar. Lifting the lid, you smelt the contents. It smelt herby. You put some on your finger, and smelt it again. You where still suspicious of it, but you put some on the rope burn on one of your wrists. It was cold, and took the heat from the soreness.

Your eyes then glanced at the bowl that Hosea had left on the table, there was still steam rising from it.

Moving slowly to the edge of the cot, you sniffed at the stew. It did smell good, and you were hungry. You picked up the bowl, and started to eat the contents. It was good, and it took away the pains you had started feel in you stomach, through lack of food.

Once you had finished you placed the bowl on the table, and lay back down on the cot.

You curled up into a ball and closed your eyes, the warm food in your belly, helping you to drift off into a peaceful slumber.


	7. A fresh start

The sound of birdsong woke you from your sleep. You couldn’t remember the last time you had woken to that sound. Not since you were forced from your home, and into the icy wastes of the grizzlies.

You glanced around the tent. The food bowl was gone, and you were covered in a blanket. Your wolf skins that you had fashioned into a cloak, were draped over the chair.

You looked at the lantern that hung on the cross beam. Who ever had come in and covered you with a blanket, had extinguished the lantern, but left it. You wondered who it was. Susan perhaps, or Hosea.

You pulled off the blanket, and swung your legs over the side of the cot. It was too hot now to be wearing your buckskin trousers, so you removed them. Just leaving you in your loincloth and tunic.

You examined your wrists, most of the redness was gone. Whatever was in the pot that Hosea had given you, had certainly helped.

  
Opening the tent flap, and peered out. The camp was a hubbub of activity. People milling around, some you recognised, some you didn’t.

You closed the tent flap and went back to the cot.

You sat in the corner, with your back to the canvas. Knees pulled up to your chest, and arms wrapped around them.

This is the only place you felt safe. Well relatively.

Maybe Hosea would bring you some food. If he didn't, it didn't really matter. You had eaten yesterday, you would probably last a few days without needing to eat. You had in the mountains, so you could here.

  
You rested your head on your knees, closing your eyes for a few moments. Your shoulder was hurting and so was your back. The bumping around in the wagon yesterday, had left some bruises. Nothing serious, but it made you ache.

You opened your eyes, and your head snapped up when you heard the tent flap open.

You stiffened, as you stared at Dutch standing in the doorway.

“I thought you might want to come and get some food?” he ventured.

You shook your head rapidly, “Nizhoni stay. Nizhoni not want trouble,” you mumbled.

Dutch walked towards the cot, where you were sitting.

You pressed your back against the canvas, wincing slightly.

“Dutch no hurt Nizhoni. No use rope. Nizhoni stay. No run,” you spluttered.

Dutch stopped, raking his fingers through his hair.

“I’d never hurt you, Nizhoni. I just wanted to protect you, not let you die alone in the mountains.”

You shook your head, “rope hurt Nizhoni. Not protect!”

You held up your wrist to show Dutch the rope burns. Although the soreness had gone, there was still a red mark around your wrists. Scars of where the rope hand cut in.

“Wagon hurt Nizhoni!” you turned slightly, so Dutch could see your back.

Dutch frowned, “did that happen in the wagon?” he asked, as he looked at the purple marks on your back, where the bruises were beginning to form.

You nodded, “Nizhoni not trust Dutch. Dutch hurt not protect,” you stated, as you frowned at him.

Dutch through his arms in the air, “for crying out loud, why can’t you understand I don't wanna hurt you!” he yelled in frustration.

You covered your head with your arms, and curled into a ball, in the farthest corner of the cot. “Please. No hurt Nizhoni.” you whimpered, as tears trickled down your cheek.

You heard the tent flap open, but you daren’t look. Maybe it was Arthur, come to tie you up again.

  
“What the hell is going on?” Hosea exclaimed, looking at you then looking at Dutch, “what happened to her back?”

Dutch sighed, “I can’t make her understand, that I...We ain’t gonna hurt her.”

Hosea rolled his eyes, “well I don’t suppose yelling at her is gonna help, is it!”

Dutch sighed, “no, its not.”

Hosea came further into the tent, and stood at the foot of the cot.

“Nizhoni, listen to me, no one is going to harm you, we’re your friends.”

Hearing Hosea’s voice, you moved your arms from your head, and looked up. Tears still glistening on your cheeks.

Hosea glanced at Dutch, “Now move towards the cot slowly,” he advised, his voice a whisper.

Dutch did as Hosea suggested, then sat on the edge of the cot.

Dutch held out his hand, “Nizhoni, I honestly didn't want you to be hurt,” he hesitated. “take my hand, let me help you.”

You looked at Hosea, then back at Dutch, then at Hosea again.

Hosea looked at you and nodded, “go on,” he coaxed.

  
You gingerly held out your hand, and you held your breath.

Dutch gently took your hand, gently running his thumb across the red mark on your wrist.

He smiled at you. “Breath Nizhoni, I promise I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.

You gasped a breath. Your eyes wide, staring at Dutch.

“Come closer,” he whispered, “let me see your back.”

You slowly crawled across the bed towards him, his hand still holding yours, now rubbing circles in the palm.

Once you were closer, in reach out his other hand to your face. You gasped, and moved your head away.

“let me wipe away those tears,” he whispered.

You moved closer, and let his thumb touch your cheeks. His hand gently touched your face.

“Now, lay down and let me look at your back,” he soothed.

  
You lay down on the cot on your stomach, your hands lay flat, and you rested your head on them, looking to the side, so that Dutch could still see your face, and you could see what he was doing. You couldn’t see Hosea, but you sensed he was still there.

Dutch reached out for the tub of salve, that was still sitting on the table.

Putting some onto his fingers, he gently moved his fingers across your back, being extra careful, when he touched an area which was already purple.

He felt you tremble slightly, as he moved his fingertips across your smooth olive skin.

You felt his breath on your neck.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he whispered, a concerned tone in his voice.

You shook your head, “Dutch not hurt,” you mumbled.

“Good,” he said, as he trailed his fingers, across your skin.

Even though most of the salve had now gone. It reminded him of the first night in Colter, when he had been so desperate to touch you. He could kick himself for losing your trust, he would have to win it back.

  
Dutch removed his hands from your back, and put the pot back on the table.

“There,” he soothed, “all done, now perhaps I should take a look at your shoulder?”

You rolled onto your back, then sat up.

“Dutch stop hurt? stop blood?” you asked.

Dutch frowned, “Its bleeding?”

You nodded, as you lifted your top, revealing not only the bandage, but your breasts.

“Woah, Woah, Woah!” Hosea yelled at you.

You gasped, and shuffled back on the cot in a panic, “Please, not hurt Nizhoni!”

Dutch turned, and glared at Hosea,

“Hosea!” Dutch growled, “just be aware!”

Dutch turned back to you, “Its ok, Nizhoni, no one’s gonna hurt you. We’ll get Susan to take a look at your shoulder, later.”

You edged back towards where Dutch was sitting, glancing nervously between the two men.

Dutch took your hands as he stood up, and coaxed you from the cot.

“Lets go and get some food, shall we?” he suggested.

You looked around nervously, then nodded.

  
Dutch put his hand on the small of your back, you gasped, then relaxed as you adjusted to the feel of his warm hand, on your bare skin.

“Perhaps Susan can find her some clothes, as well.” Hosea Suggested, looking at you. You were still wearing the native clothes they had found you in. The loincloth, which covered the front and the back, but left your thigh’s virtually bare, except for the knife sheath, which hung from the belt, and the small tunic, which finished beneath your breasts. Your feet were now bare, since you had packed away the fur lined boots you had been wearing, your bone choker necklace was also now visible.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “that will be up Nizhoni, Hosea. If she’s happy with the clothes she’s wearing, then so am I.”

Hosea shook his head, “she was a lot more covered up in the mountains, not sure what the likes of Micah and Javier will make of having a half naked woman running around in the camp,” he tutted.

“They can make of it what they like, Nizhoni is under my protection, and no one will touch her, not unless she wants them to,” Dutch chided.

Hosea walked away, huffing to himself, looking for Susan, whilst Dutch guided you to the campfire, where a cauldron of stew was bubbling.

  
You glanced around the camp, the red headed woman, was glaring at you again, but you saw Abigail, standing by the fire drinking something hot, along with another woman, who you hadn’t seen.

“Abigail, Mrs Adler,” Dutch greeted. “This is Nizhoni, she joined us in Colter, much like yourself Mrs Adler.”

You’d already met Abigail. She had sat with you whilst you had a fever. The other woman, Mrs Adler you didn't know.

She held out her hand, whilst at the same time, looking you over.

“Pleased to meet you, but call me Sadie.”

You tilted your head, and looked at her hand.

Abigail chuckled, “Nizhoni, it’s a greeting. When someone offers you there hand, you shake it, like this.”

Abigail grabbed Sadie's hand, and shook it.

“Go on, you try,” she suggested.

You took Sadie's hand, and gripped it tight, shaking it up and down, like Abigail had done.

After several moments, Sadie chuckled, “you can let go now, that's some grip you have on you there, Nizhoni.”

You let go of Sadie’s hand, it was a strange custom, but you would probably get used to it.

Sadie clenched and unclenched her hand, trying to ease the stiffness after your handshake.

She looked at Dutch, “She don't say much, does she?”

Dutch smiled, “she doesn't, but she understands perfectly. I’m hoping that given time, she’ll learn some more.

Dutch took his hand away from your back, and ladled some stew into a bowl, before handing it to you. He then filled another bowl and took that for himself.

“Come Nizhoni, lets go and eat,” he suggested, as he guided you to a table, which was close to his tent.

  
The red headed woman was still glaring at you.

You looked at the woman then you looked at Dutch.

“Red woman, not like Nizhoni?” you asked.

Dutch glanced at Molly, then chuckled, “Oh don’t worry about her, she quite often doesn't like me either!”

You frowned, you couldn’t quite understand why she was in his tent, if she didn't like him!


	8. A Different Family

You sat at the table, eating, and casting your eyes across the camp. It was the first time you had eaten on two consecutive days, since being taken by the soldiers. That seemed like ages ago, but in truth, it had only been a few weeks.

Your previous life all but forgotten, apart from the mark on your back, which was a daily reminder. It didn't hurt anymore, but you only had to put your hand to your back, to feel it. The memory of how it got there lingered, like the memory of the soldiers.

Dutch looked at you, gazing around the camp curiously, as you ate your food. He noticed how your eyes were locked on the O’Driscoll tied to the tree.

“That man your looking at, Nizhoni. He’s an O’Driscoll, our enemy,” Dutch explained.

You frowned, “Why Dutch not kill?”

Dutch chuckled, “Oh believe me, I’m tempted, but he’s more useful alive.”

You sighed, “Dutch good, Nizhoni bad. Nizhoni kill enemy, Nizhoni kill soldier.”

Dutch raised his eyebrow, and stared at you.

“Was this when you ran away from the soldiers?”

You nodded, “soldiers not kill Nizhoni. Nizhoni hide in mountain!”

Dutch nodded, “well I doubt you’ll find many soldiers around here, you’ll be quite safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

You looked over at the man, tied to the tree.

“Man prisoner. Dutch keep tied to tree?” you asked.

Dutch hummed, “maybe,” he hesitated, “lets go and see what he makes of you.”

You walked with Dutch, over to the tree where the man was tied.

Bill, the man who had tried to kill you, seemed to be questioning him.

When he saw you with Dutch, he stopped and glared at you. Given half a chance, you figured he would like it to be you tied to that tree.

The man glanced at you, then at Dutch. You thought he looked terrified.

“Now Nizhoni,” Dutch began, as he wrapped an arm around your waist, “this little weasel is Mr Kieran Duffy. You remember, Sadie, Mrs Adler?”

You nodded, “Dutch help in mountain.”

“Yes that's right. His friends decided to kill her husband, then they...well they did to her what the soldiers wanted to do to you!” Dutch concluded.

Bill looked at you, the glare was gone. It had been replaced by a look of pity. He had been a soldier, he knew the score.

“Nizhoni kill soldier. Not hurt woman again.” you stated.

Bill nodded, and looked back at Kieran.

You glared at Keiran with the same hatred you felt for the soldiers.

Kieran looked at you, fear in his eyes, then he glanced between Dutch and Bill.

“Please, don't...don’t let her...I heard about Indians...” he wailed.

“Then I suggest you start talking, boy!” Bill growled.

“Ok, ok, just...keep her away from me,” Kieran hesitated, “Colm, he’s hold up in a cabin, I can take you there, only...don’t let her touch me!”

Arthur walked over, and drew his knife, slicing the ropes.

“C’mon, you better not by lying boy. She’ll still be here when we get back,” he smirked.

Dutch chuckled, “You go with ‘em Bill, take John as well.”

Bill nodded, and followed Arthur, glancing over his shoulders a couple of times to look at you.

Dutch squeezed you gently, “nice work, Nizhoni. I think even Bill is warming to you. Now lets go and see if we can find Susan, get that shoulder checked.”

You both headed back towards the tents, Dutch still with his arm wrapped around you. As you passed his tent, you noticed that the woman who shared his tent, was gone. You thought nothing of it. The thought disappearing when you saw Susan appear from behind a wagon.

“Ahh Susan,” Dutch greeted, as he removed his arm from around you, “can you change Nizhoni’s bandage, I think all the jolting from the wagon caused the wound to bleed a little.”

Susan frowned, casting glances between you and Dutch.

She rolled her eyes, “Come with me, Nizhoni. Best if we do this in your tent.”

She grabbed some supplies from the back of a wagon, and you followed her back to your tent.

“Come see me once your done, Nizhoni. I’ll show you the rest of the camp.” Dutch yelled.

You glanced over your shoulder, to see him watching you, with his fingers hooked in his belt.

Once you were inside your tent, Susan closed the flap.

“Sit down, and I’ll take a look.”

She gestured to the cot, so you sat down and removed your tunic.

As she removed the bandage, she looked at the tunic, you had laid on the cot.

“I think,” she began, “we should try and find you some… different clothes, Nizhoni,”

“Different?” you questioned.

Susan smiled, “yes, a little more substantial, like your winter clothes.”

You shook your head, “winter clothes, for mountain. These for now. Nizhoni make more. Nizhoni hunt for skins,” You stated.

“So much for Hosea’s suggestion,” Susan huffed, as she finished removing the old bandage.

Susan looked closely at the wound, it wasn't bleeding anymore, and the stitches had stayed intact. She gently wiped away the dried blood, and wrapped it with a clean bandage.

“How does it feel?”

You moved your shoulder, “not hurt. Good,” you replied.

Susan smiled, “just be careful, no going hunting yet, you don't wanna pull those stitches.”

You rolled your eyes, “need skins. Make clothes.”

Susan shrugged, “well I guess you could ask Charles, or buy some at the butchers in Valentine,” Susan rolled her eyes, “now I guess you should go find Dutch, seeing as he’s so keen to show you around.”

You put your tunic back on, and rolled your shoulder. You weren’t sure why you couldn't hunt. Your shoulder felt fine. You just needed to find someone to go with you.

You walked out of your tent, and glanced around. You weren't too keen to ask Charles, of all the people here, you felt he was more likely to judge you, for your past. Maybe some one else could go with you whilst you hunted. No one needed to know that Susan said you shouldn’t.

You headed over to Dutch’s tent, but stopped half way, when you heard shouting.

“I’ve seen you, Dutch Van Der Linde, arms wrapped around your little redskin! Am I not good enough for ya anymore, ya want something more exotic!” Molly shrieked.

“Don’t be ridiculous Molly, I’m just taking care of her,” Dutch responded in measured tones.

“You stay a way from her! I’m warning you Dutch, just stay away from her!” Molly screamed.

“Miss O’Shea, I suggest you go take a walk, and calm down, before you say something we’ll both regret.” Dutch growled.

You watched, as Molly stormed out of the tent, she saw you standing there, and stopped.

“You little savage!” She hissed, “You stay away from him!”

She rushed away from the tents, the colour of her face, matching her hair.

You wondered if that's what all the people here thought of you still. Bill, John and Abigail had already called you a savage, when you were in the mountains. Now Molly. You began to feel again, like you didn't really belong. You wouldn't run this time though. Hosea had been right. You shouldn’t sneak away, you should explain, or at least try to explain, why you should leave. For now, you would take refuge in your tent.

Your turned to walk back the way you had come, until you heard your name being called.

“Nizhoni, come here,” Dutch called out.

You turned around, and slowly walked towards him.

“Nizhoni not want trouble,” you muttered, looking at the floor.

Dutch gently took your chin in his hand and tilted your head, so you were looking at him.

“There wont be any trouble,” he whispered, as he gently swept a loose hair behind your ear.

You sighed, “Nizhoni not belong. Nizhoni savage!”

Dutch frowned, “you most certainly are not. You belong here as much as anyone.”

Dutch smiled and put his arm around you, as he walked with you, away from the tent.

“We’re all different, and we accept each others differences, that's what makes us family.”

You frowned, “Dutch like Nizhoni. Molly not like Nizhoni. Warn stay away!”

Dutch stopped and dropped his hand, so it rested on your bare thigh, the tips of his fingers gently moved across your skin. His other hand, cupped your cheek, and he gently turned your head, so you were looking at him.

“I do like you Nizhoni, I like you a lot. I’ll deal with Molly!” He concluded.

You looked him in the eye, and a hint of a smile crossed you face. You had begun to trust him again. He made you feel safe.

Dutch stroked you cheek with his hand, “You truly are beautiful, Nizhoni,” he whispered, as he kissed your forehead.

Your smile turned into a frown.

“Why Dutch put mouth on skin?” you asked.

Dutch chuckled. “Its called a kiss, Nizhoni. Its a show of affection. When you like someone.”

You tilted your head, “Dutch like head and neck?” you asked curiously, remembering the kiss he had given you in the mountains.

Dutch smirked, “very much, but I prefer...” He hesitated, “your lips.”

His lips pressed against yours in a gentle kiss.

After he pulled away, you touched your fingers to your lips.

Dutch smiled, “ain’t you ever been kissed before?”

You looked up at him, and shook your head.

Dutch chuckled, “c’mon, I better show you where we keep the horses!”

As you walked over to where all the camps horses were hitched, you saw the white stallion. Breaking away from Dutch’s grasp you ran over to it, running your hand over its neck.

Dutch walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. His hands gently resting on your bare torso, savouring the texture of your velvet skin.

You slightly turned your head, and looked up at Dutch, you smiled. You always felt safe and comfortable when he was near.

“Nizhoni ride this one!” You stated.

Dutch chuckled, his fingers gliding across your stomach.

“I don't think so, that's The Count, he’s my horse. He’s fussy about who he lets on his back.”

You looked at the stunning white horse.

“Nizhoni, need horse. Nizhoni hunt.” you stated.

Dutch gently turned you around, he gently rested his hands on your shoulders.

“Once you’ve healed I’ll get you a horse.”

You frowned, “Nizhoni need hunt. Need skins. Make clothes,”

Dutch shook his head, “I can guarantee Susan wont want you using your bow, until the stitches come out. Maybe you can go into town with Arthur, and the girls tomorrow. Buy some skins.”

You sighed, but nodded reluctantly. You weren't sure you wanted to go near a town, with all those white people, all that hate. You knew, though, that there was no way you would be able to go hunting until your shoulder was healed, or without a horse to ride.


	9. Valentine

When you awoke the following morning, it was once again to the sound of birdsong. You lay on the cot, for a few minutes listening. You'd always done that before the soldiers came. After that, you were always too tense to relax in the mornings. Just in case they found you, or wild animals were stalking your camp, if you let the fire dwindle.

Even in Colter, you weren't completely relaxed. The danger of wild animals was less, but the worry about the people you shared the buildings with had still lingered in the back of your mind.

Now you felt more comfortable. Trusted them a little more.

Dutch had spent most of the previous day, walking you round the camp, introducing you to the other people, in what he referred to as his family.

Some you had already met. Those you hadn't included Karen and Mary-Beth. Both nice, and welcomed you, much like Susan had. Those you were unsure of were 3 older men, who to you seemed a little strange. Uncle, Herr Strauss and a priest called Swanson. The priest and the Uncle, seemed to be drunk all the time. Herr Strauss didn't smile at all.

Of course just because you had met the others, didn't mean they liked you. Molly you knew didn't like you. Charles you weren't sure about. He didn't say much, and you almost felt like he was judging you for your past. Bill, you had thought hated you, but now you weren't so sure. Not since he found out about the soldiers. The camp was big enough to avoid the people who didn't like you, or who you didn't trust. Then there was always your tent. You could always retreat there.

What had surprised you, was when Arthur, Bill and John returned, with Dutch's enemy, the O'Driscoll, Kieran Duffy.

He was no longer tied up, and seemed able to walk around by himself. If an enemy had wandered around freely in your fathers camp, he would have been killed.

A few of the others still gave him strange looks, not trusting him fully. The only one who looked upon him with hatred was Sadie. You could understand that, after what his friends had done to her.

You didn't worry about him though, because every time he saw you, all the colour would drain from his face, and he would walk in the other direction.

You swung your legs over the side of the cot, and stood up. You rolled your shoulder. You found it annoying to be restricted by the bandage, so you tried to move it frequently. If your shoulder was too weak, it would stop you from hunting when the time came.

You put your satchel over your head, and attached your knife in its sheath, to your waist band.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the tent flap.

Stepping out into camp, without Dutch by your side was a little scary. The last time you had stepped out by yourself, you had come face to face with Molly. An experience you didn't want to repeat.

You looked towards the main campfire, to see Sadie and Abigail. You focussed on your target, and headed to get some food.

Once again, you'd only got half way to where you were going, when you heard your name being called. At least it was a friendly voice that you recognised.

"Nizhoni, c'mon if your coming to Valentine with us!" Arthur exclaimed.

You stopped and look towards where he was standing. You quickly walked over when you saw everyone already in the wagon. To your horror, Molly was also there. You tried to ignore her, you didn't want another scene.

Arthur helped you into the wagon.

"Now Nizhoni, when we get there, you're to stay with one of us, am I clear?" he warned.

You nodded. "Nizhoni stay close."

Arthur nodded, and walked around to the front, and sat next to Uncle, up front.

"C'mon then, lets get going!"

Molly eyed you up and down, "nice to see you made an effort," she scoffed sarcastically.

Karen glared at Molly, "stop being such a stuck up bitch!"

Karen looked at you and smiled, "you look gorgeous just the way you are, Nizhoni."

You smiled at Karen, then stared at Molly, as you swept your long dark brown hair so he rested on on shoulder.

Tilly smiled at you, "I love your hair, would you let me braid it for you?"

You tilted your head, "braid? What is braid?"

Tilly chuckled, "it'll be easier if I show you, when we get back, I'll braid Mary-Beth's hair so you can see."

Mary-Beth grinned, "I love when you do my hair, Tilly."

Tilly grinned, "If you don't like it, I can always take it out!"

"Nizhoni watch, then decide," you stated.

"Women!" Uncle huffed and rolled his eyes, "always going on about hair and clothes!"

Karen, who was nearest to him, punched him in the shoulder, "mind your business, and watch the road!"

Uncle grunted. Arthur, just glanced behind him and chuckled.

As you approached the town, you noticed people staring at the wagon. You started to become self conscious. Arthur noticed it to, and turned around, to make sure you were ok.

You looked at him, a look of concern on your face.

"Don't worry, Nizhoni. Just stay close, you'll be fine," he assured you.

Uncle stopped the wagon, near to the stables.

"Now remember ladies, we're keepin' a low profile!" Arthur warned.

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Karen scoffed.

You watched as Karen headed towards the hotel, Mary-Beth slipped around the corner, Tilly headed to the saloon, and Molly headed down the main street.

You jumped off the back of the wagon.

A few towns people wandered past, staring at you, then tutting as they went past.

Arthur rested his hand on your shoulder, and pointed across the street.

"There's the butcher, and here's some money. Go buy what you need."

"Uncle, sit here and keep an eye on her, any trouble, yell. I'll be in the store getting supplies."

Uncle nodded, and sat down on a bench, just outside the general store, which had a good view of the Butchers stand.

Arthur watched you walk over to the butcher, once you were there, he turned and headed into the store.

As you approached, the butcher frowned, "don't see too many of your people round here, but business is business, what can I get you?"

"Nizhoni buy skins?" you asked.

The butcher nodded, "I got skins, you got money, dollars, I don't trade, only cash."

You showed him the money that Arthur had given you.

"Nizhoni buy deer skin, buck skin," you stated.

The butcher hummed, "Lets see what I've got."

You waited as he rummaged around behind him in a crate.

"Hey you, redskin!"

Your head snapped round, to see a man standing before you.

A gun was pointing at you.

You thought about reaching for your knife, but you knew better than that, so you raised your hands.

"Nizhoni not want trouble. Nizhoni buy skins." you tried to explain.

The man chuckled, "ain't your lucky day is it redskin, I happen to know you ain't as peaceable as you make out, I happen to know you killed a soldier!"

You shook your head, "Nizhoni not kill," you blurted, as you took a step back.

You looked towards the store, but there was no sign of Arthur, and Uncle, wasn't looking. He was sleeping.

"Nizhoni need help!" you yelled.

You didn't get the chance to yell anymore, as you felt something hard hit your face, the last thing you saw before the darkness took you, was another strange man holding a shotgun, whose butt had just smashed into your jaw.

Arthur came out of the general store, and looked across to the butcher. You weren't there.

He rolled his eyes, and looked at uncle, who was sound asleep on the bench.

He kicked, his leg, hard. "Where the fuck is she, I told you to keep an eye on her!"

Uncle yelped, as he opened his eyes, "I dunno, I must have fell asleep. I ain't a well man!"

"You're a fucking moron!" Arthur growled.

He walked over to the butcher, "what happened to the Indian girl you were serving?" he asked.

The butcher sighed, "got hauled off by the sheriff, apparently she killed some soldier. Damn sheriff, ain't very good for business!" he moaned.

Arthur nodded. How the hell did the sheriff know you had killed a soldier. It wasn't like the army hung around in towns like Valentine.

Arthur headed off towards the jail house. He wondered how the hell he was gonna get you out, and what the hell Dutch would say if he went back to camp without you.

As Arthur walked in the door of the jail house, he glanced in the cell, and saw you lying unconscious on the floor. Anger started to well up, but he managed to keep a lid on it.

"How can I help you mister," the sheriff asked, frowning at the stranger.

Arthur nodded towards the cell, "I've come for the Indian girl,"

The sheriff rolled his eyes, "she ain't going nowhere, someone's accused her of murder, and even if she ain't guilty, them redskins ain't supposed to wander off the reservation."

Arthur frowned, "well... she don't live on the reservation anymore, she's... she's..." he hesitated, trying to think of something, "she's my wife, I married her, bought her off some soldiers up at the fort!"

The sheriff hummed, "you got any documentation, marriage certificate, bill o' sale?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "not on me, but like I say, she's my wife, she ain't killed no one, she don't have it in her."

"I'm sorry mister, but I cant just let her go, you bring me the proof, then you can have her, but don't take too long, I'm about to send the deputy to the train station, send word to the fort. If she has murdered a soldier, or if she's run off the reservation, that ain't in my jurisdiction. That's an army matter now!"

Arthur looked over at you, then back at the sheriff. "well don't knock her about anymore than you have already, I'll be back soon."

The sheriff nodded as Arthur left the jail house.

Once he had gone, the he looked over at the deputy "married my arse!" he exclaimed. "he ain't even wearing a ring! Now you head off down to the station, and send word to the fort, we got a runaway, probably killed a soldier. Tell 'em to send someone to get her!"

The deputy nodded, and headed out of the jail house.

When you next opened your eyes, you weren't in the street anymore. You were inside a room, with bars. On the other side of the bars, was the man who pointed the gun at you.

You struggled to your feet, and put your hands on the bars.

"Please, Nizhoni buy skins!" you begged.

He walked towards the bars, with a rifle in his hand.

He smashed the butt of the rifle against your hand, "get your filthy fucking redskin hands off those bars, and sit back down!" he growled.

You screamed, and pulled your hand back, clutching it to your chest. You could feel the fingers, already beginning to swell and throb.

"Please, Nizhoni not bad!" you begged.

"I said, sit down," he growled.

You stepped back and sat down on the cot, but panic veiled your face, as he stormed to the cell door and opened it.

He grabbed you by your tunic, backhanding you in the face, before throwing you at the back wall of the cell.

"You fucking murdering savage, your nothing but an animal, you can stay on the floor!"

Your head hit the stone wall, and you felt something warm run down your neck.

You opened your eyes, but everything was a blur. Tears trickled down your cheeks, before everything turned hazy and you blacked out.


	10. Rescue

Arthur left the jail house scratching his head. He didn't want to leave you there, but there wasn't a lot of choice. Not unless he wanted to start a fight that he more than likely couldn’t win. He just had to get you out of there before the soldiers turned up.

Dutch would know what to do, first thing was to round everyone up, then head back to camp.

  
As he walked down the main street, he spotted Tilly. Arthur frowned, it looked like some man had a hold of her.

Seeing you in in the jail house roughed up, had soured his mood already. He stormed down the alley way.

“What the hell do you think your doin’, get your hands off, or you might find a bullet in your skull,” Arthur growled, as he drew his gun.

The man put his hands up, “Ok, ok, I’m goin’!”

“get back to the wagon, Tilly, we’re heading back. Where’s Karen?” Arthur grunted.

Tilly looked towards the hotel, “saw her go in there, with some fella!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and headed into the hotel.

As he walked in he heard a scream.

“What room?” he growled at the hotel manager.

“2B! I don't want no trouble though!” he replied, somewhat panicked.

Arthur took the stairs, two at a time, and kicked in the door.

Karen stood there, with a bruised face.

“Get back to the wagon,” Arthur demanded, “we’re leavin’!”

The man, made a grab for Karen, “I ain’t finished yet!” he grumbled.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “you have now,” he retorted, as he punched the man, knocking him out cold.

  
Arthur followed Karen, and they both headed to the wagon.

“Where’s Nizhoni?” Tilly asked.

“Long story, ain't got time right now, we need to get back to camp.”

Arthur climbed up front, and grabbed the reins from uncle. He quickly turned the wagon round, and pushed the horses as hard as they would go.

“Where is she then?” Karen asked, a worried look on her face.

“In the jail house, unconscious. we’re gonna have to break her out!” Arthur concluded.

  
The rest of the journey was made in silence, when they reached the camp, Arthur pulled up the horses, and jumped off the wagon. He headed straight for Dutch’s tent.

“How was Valentine? where’s...” Dutch began.

“It was shit!” Arthur interrupted, “the sheriff’s got Nizhoni in the jail. I tried to spin a yarn, but he ain't havin’ it. He’s sending word to the fort, soldiers’ll be coming for her, we have to hurry!”

Dutch scowled, “what the fuck happened, you were supposed to be looking after her!”

“There’s no time for that Dutch, the sheriff… well he’s roughed her up a bit!” Arthur retorted.

“C’mon on then lets go...Javier! Charles! You’re with me!” he yelled.

  
The four men mounted there horses, and galloped out of the camp at Horseshoe Overlook.

There was no chatter, and Dutch pushed his horse, flat out to get to Valentine as fast as he could.

When they arrived, he hitched The Count outside the saloon.

“No point announcing our arrival gentlemen. Javier, Charles hang back a bit, just in case things turn nasty. Arthur...follow me.

As Dutch and Arthur headed to the jail house, an instantly recognisable voice called out.

“Gentlemen!”

Dutch stopped, turned and rolled his eyes. “Josiah. You certainly know how to pick your time!”

Josiah frowned, it wasn’t the welcome he was expecting, or usually received.

“Have you gentlemen run into a spot of bother again?” he enquired.

Arthur nodded, “you could say that!”

“I suggest, Josiah you ready your horse, we may have to beat a hasty retreat. You’d better follow us back to camp, if you have anything lengthy to discuss,” Dutch interjected.

Josiah nodded, “enough said, I’ll leave you two gentlemen to it!”

  
Dutch and Arthur carried on towards the jail. Just before they reached it, Dutch turned to Arthur.

“Just leave the talking to me, just be ready if things turn nasty,” he warned.

“I’m pretty certain they will, when you see Nizhoni,” he mumbled under his breath.

As Dutch walked into the jail house, he glanced in your cell. Any thoughts he had of discussion, evaporated when he saw your prone body. crumpled against the back wall.

He immediately pulled out both revolvers, and pointed them at the two men.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, “now unlock the cells, both of ‘em!”

The sheriff, raised his hands, as did the deputy. He walked over to the desk. Arthur immediately drew his gun, and followed him to make sure he wasn't going for a gun in the drawer. Once he realised he wasn't, he let the sheriff continue.

The sheriff slowly walked over to the cells and unlocked them.

“Arthur! Their guns.” Dutch commanded.

Arthur grabbed the key from the sheriff, then removed the men’s revolvers from their holsters, and put them on the desk.

“In!” Dutch growled, as he hustled the men into the empty cell.

Arthur quickly locked the door.

“You won’t get away with this, I swear to god, I’ll hunt you down and I’ll find you. You and that fucking redskin savage!” The sheriff growled.

Dutch turned his gun on the sheriff, his eyes filled with rage.

“You shut your god-damn mouth, or I’m gonna plaster the fucking walls with your brain, you got that!”

The sheriff turned pale, and sat down on the cot in the cell, gesturing for his already pale deputy to do the same.

  
Dutch holstered his guns, and hastily entered your cell.

He crouched down and looked at you, touching your face.

“Nizhoni?” he whispered, but you didn't respond.

As soon as he picked you up, he saw the blood caked on the back of your head.

“C’mon, we need to get her back. She’s in a bad way, Arthur.” Dutch confirmed, his voice trembling.

Arthur held the door open, as Dutch carried you out, and headed down the road towards the saloon, where the horses were hitched.

Javier looked at you, as Dutch walked past, “Mierda, what did they do to the poor niñita.”

“I don’t know Javier, but if I lose her, then I’m coming back, and they’ll pay for what they’ve done.”

  
Dutch passed you over to Arthur, whilst he mounted The Count, then Arthur passed you back up to him.

“Can you manage ok?” Arthur asked.

Dutch nodded, “I’ll take it slow, just make sure no bastard comes after us!”

Arthur nodded, and you all headed out of town, Javier, Arthur and Charles, bringing up the rear, making sure that you weren’t followed.

Josiah joined them, as they headed out of town, riding next to Dutch, curious about Dutch’s precious cargo.

  
As the riders approached the fallen tree, which lead to the horseshoe overlook, Javier and Charles, rode ahead. By the time, Dutch reached the hitching area, Hosea and Susan, were there, armed with anything that might be required to heal your battered body.

Dutch jumped off of The Count, carrying you bridal style towards the tents. He walked straight into his own tent.

Molly stared at you aghast. “What's she doing here, she’s supposed to be...”

Dutch, gently put you on his cot, and glared at Molly.

“What do you mean? What do you know?” he raged.

Molly backed out the tent, “I love you Dutch, I did it for us!”

“Arthur! Javier! Deal with this, I don’t have time for it now!” Dutch growled.

Javier grabbed Molly roughly by the arm, he had seen the state you were in, if Molly was responsible for that, he would deal with her himself!

  
Dutch turned to look at Susan, who had walked into his tent, “She’s taken a knock to the head, and something’s happened to her hand.” he explained.

Susan nodded, “Head first, then we’ll look at her hand. She’s taken a hit to the face as well,” Susan added.

Dutch held you in a sitting position, supporting your neck so that Susan could look at the cut on the back of your head.

She gently bathed it, and examined it closely.

“I don't think it needs a stitch, just a bandage, she noted, as she started to dress the wound. In the mean time, Hosea looked at your hand.

“Difficult to tell if it’s broken, I’ll bandage it for now.” he confirmed.

  
Once they had bandaged your hand and head, Dutch gently laid you back down on his cot. Susan bathed your face, and put some cream on the bruising on your face, then on your torso, where the bruising from the sheriff’s boot was beginning to appear.

Dutch glanced at Hosea, then at Susan.

“What now?” he asked.

Susan sighed, “we just wait, and hope she comes back to us.”

Dutch raked his fingers through his hair, “is that all, isn’t there anything else we can do?”

Hosea sighed, “you can try talking to her, its difficult when they’ve taken a knock like that.”

Dutch nodded, and sat on the edge of the cot.

Hosea and Susan, left Dutch to it. It was a waiting game now.

  
Josiah, looked into the tent.

“Dutch? I really need to speak to you.” he urged.

Dutch looked over his shoulder, and sighed.

“yes, of course Josiah. What is it?”

Josiah, walked into the tent, and looked at you laying on the cot, “she’s absolutely stunning, who is she?”

Dutch half smiled, and stroked your face.

“She is, isn’t she. Her name is Nizhoni, she’s the daughter of an Indian chief.”

Dutch looked back at Josiah, “you didn't come all this way, to tell me how beautiful she is though, did you?”

Josiah shook his head, “It’s Sean, I found him.”

“He’s alive!” Dutch exclaimed, “where is he?”

“Bounty hunters have him, if you want him back, we have to move fast.” Josiah explained.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “of course I want him back! Take Arthur, Charles and Javier.”

Josiah nodded, “We’ll head out now,” he hesitated, “I hope she makes it.”

“Thank you Josiah, so do I,” Dutch replied, his voice dropping to a whisper.

  
Dutch sat by your side, gently stroking your face, hoping to get some response, but there was none.

You looked like something reminiscent of a fairy tail, the sleeping beauty. Although Dutch was sure that the sleeping beauty didn't have bruises and a cut lip.

“C’mon Nizhoni,” he whispered, “don’t let the bastard who did this to you, win.”

Susan walked in the tent, just as the sun was setting.

“Any change?” she asked hopefully.

Dutch shook his head, “If I didn't know better, I would’ve said she was just sleeping.”

Susan smiled, “in a way she is, its just the bodies way of healing itself.”

“I hope your right, Susan, really I do,” Dutch sighed.

Susan looked at you, lying on the bed, all bruised and battered.

“Dutch? What do you want to do about Molly? Javier and Arthur can’t deal with her, they’ve gone to get Sean!” Susan added.

Dutch sighed, “did she… Did Javier get anything out of her?”

Susan nodded, “it was her, she told the sheriff that Nizhoni had killed a soldier. She pretended to be the soldiers sister.”

“God-damn, woman!” Dutch growled.

“You know the rules Dutch, you made ‘em,” Susan scowled.

Dutch looked at you. You were a part of the gang now. He turned to look at Susan, his face hardened.

“Get Bill to deal with her, not here though, I don't want the girls or young Jack to see it.”

Susan nodded, and gently rested a hand on Dutch’s shoulder.

“She’s gonna be alright, Dutch. I know it.”

Dutch nodded, and stroked your face. He really hoped that Susan was right.


	11. Broken

As the light started to fade, Hosea came into Dutch’s tent with a lantern, and a bowl of food.

“I figured you weren't gonna sleep, so you might as well have something to eat, and be able to see if she stirs at all,” he suggested.

Hosea peered over Dutch’s shoulder,

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. I’ll bring you some water, for when she wakes.” he added.

Dutch nodded, and rolled his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he sat at someone's bedside like this. It had certainly been a while. Probably when Arthur or John were younger. Then he and Hosea would take it in turns. Not this time though. He wanted to be there when you woke, and besides, Hosea hadn’t offered. Probably because he knew that Dutch would say no.

  
Hosea returned shortly, with a jug of water and a cup. He put them on the table, near to the cot so they were in easy reach, should they be needed.

Dutch turned to Hosea, a grim look on his face.

“Is Bill back? Has he...”

“Yes,” Hosea interrupted, “it’s done,” he answered abruptly.

“You don’t approve? What if she’d turned Arthur or John over to the law, you wouldn’t have been so squeamish then!” Dutch scowled.

Hosea sighed, “I didn't say that, I know it had to be done, doesn't mean I have to take pleasure in it.”

Dutch nodded, “get some rest, Hosea.”

Hosea, walked out of the tent, closing the flap on the way out.

  
Dutch turned his attention back to you, completely forgetting about the food that Hosea had brought in.

He gently cupped your jaw, stroking his thumb up and down your cheek.

“You’re so innocent, Nizhoni. You didn't deserve any of this. Not being given to the soldiers, not being abandoned, and certainly not treated like this by that god-damn sheriff. I’m gonna protect you from now on, no ones gonna hurt you again, I promise.”

Dutch sighed, “can you even hear me? I doubt it.”

He leant over, and gently kissed your forehead.

“You really have no idea, what you do to me, do you?”

Dutch took hold of your unbandaged hand, gently rubbing circles with his thumb, in the palm.

Whether it was him talking, or him touching your face and your hand he didn't know, but he noticed slight movement behind your eyelids.

He dropped your hand, and cupped your face in his hands, gently stroking both of your cheeks with his thumbs.

“C’mon Nizhoni, come back to me. I know you can hear me, just open your eyes,” he soothed.

  
You could hear him, you tried to open your eyes, but it was such an effort. You opened them for a split second, but everything was just a blur.

“D...D...Dutch,” you croaked.

You managed to open your eyes for a little longer, but everything was still blurred.

Then you felt it, pain. It seemed to be everywhere. Your head, your hand, each breath you took.”

“It’s ok, Nizhoni, I got you!” Dutch soothed.

He quickly grabbed for the water, and poured some into the cup.

His hand gently slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, tilting your head slightly.

“Here, drink this,” he urged, holding the cup to your lips.

You took the water gratefully, easing the dryness in your throat.

Tears started to pool in your eyes, you tried to hold the tears back, but you couldn’t.

“Why? White man hurt Nizhoni,” You sobbed, your breath coming in gasps.

Dutch pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, his fingers trailing up and down your back.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I promise you, no one is gonna lay a hand on you again.” he soothed, as he gently kissed the top of your head.

“Hurts,” you sobbed.

“I know, I know,” he soothed.

  
When your tears subsided, Dutch laid you gently back onto the bed.

He gently stroked your forehead, sweeping stray hairs from your face.

“I’m gonna go and find Hosea, get you something for the pain,” he whispered.

You reached out to him with your hand, “please...Dutch not leave Nizhoni!” you begged.

Dutch took your hand, “are you sure you don't want something for the pain.”

“Please...not go...Dutch stay,” you pleaded.

Dutch pressed his lips to your hand, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He stood up, still holding your hand, then he gently placed it on the cot.

You frowned, slightly concerned. He said he would stay.

Dutch slowly removed his gun belt, then his waistcoat. Then he sat on the edge of the cot and removed his boots.

After that, he lay down on the cot next to you.

Wrapping one arm around you, he pulled you into his chest. His fingers gently glided across the bare skin of your back. His other hand gently stroked your cheek.

As your head lay on his chest, you relaxed, listening to his heartbeat, slow and steady.

“Nizhoni sorry. Nizhoni no good. Nizhoni broken.” you whimpered.

Dutch gently kissed the top of your head.

“Don’t you ever say you’re no good, your perfect. None of this is your fault, we’ll soon have you healed up. Right now, I just want you to rest.”

You gently nodded and closed your eyes. The warmth and gentle touch of Dutch’s hands soothing you into sleep.

  
Dutch lay on the cot all night. Arms wrapped around you, watching you sleep.

Sometimes it was peaceful, other times you became restless, and cried out. Speaking in a language he couldn’t understand. He would gently stroke you cheek, or rub circles on your back, this seemed to calm you, and your sleep would again become peaceful.

As you slept, your head rested on his chest, and your hand rested beside it. He never dreamed that he would be lying in the same cot with you so soon, even if it was due to the unfortunate turn of events.

  
When the sun rose, the next morning, Dutch lay there on the cot, you sound asleep beside him. He’d fallen asleep, in the early hours of the morning.

That's how Hosea found both of you, when he poked his head through the tent flap, that morning.

The sound of the tent flap opening, caused Dutch to wake.

“Is she alright?” Hosea whispered.

Dutch nodded, “she hasn't moved, since she fell asleep. Although she did cry out several times.”

Hosea nodded, “what about you, did you get much sleep?” Hosea queried.

“A couple of hours, I guess.” Dutch replied. “Can you get her something for the pain, as soon as I move, she’ll wake. She begged me not to leave her alone, last night.”

Hosea nodded, “poor kid, she’s certainly been through it, these past weeks.”

He left the tent, in search of some pain relief.

  
Dutch gazed at you, scanning your face and body. The bruising had started to show from the sheriffs onslaught. Purple marks littered your torso, and face. One on your jaw, the distinctive shape of a rifle butt. Dutch would recognise that anywhere. He glanced at your bandaged hand, wondering if it was just bruised or if it was broken.

Your shoulder, not withstanding, it would be a while before you would be able to hunt. He knew that would upset you. Maybe that's why you described yourself as broken last night.

Hosea walked back back into the tent, with a small bottle in his hand.

“This should help,” commented.

Dutch gently moved your hand and head, from his chest, and slid out of the cot.

As he did you started to stir. Dutch quickly walked over to where Hosea was standing. Hosea handed him the bottle.

“I’ll give it to her when she is fully awake. Hopefully she’ll sleep a little longer,” he concluded.

Any hopes Dutch had of that, were dashed. You quickly woke, realising you were alone in the cot.

“Dutch! Dutch!” you screamed, as your reached out your hand.

Dutch frowned at your sudden distress.

“It’s Ok Nizhoni, I’m right here, Hosea brought some medicine for the pain.”

You shook your head, “No, Nizhoni broken!” you wailed.

Dutch walked back to the cot, “It’s ok, Nizhoni, this will help you heal.”

You shook your head, “No,” tears pooled in your eyes, and slowly began to trickle down your cheeks.

“Not hand, not head. Nizhoni eye broken,” you sobbed.

Dutch cast Hosea a worried look, Then rushed over to the cot, and took your hand.

“What do you mean, Nizhoni...broken?” He asked.

You carried on sobbing, not sure how to explain.

Hosea walked over to the cot, “here Dutch, let me.”

Dutch glanced at Hosea, not really wanting to leave you in distress but he knew Hosea was better with healing, and all things medical. Many a time he’d removed Bullets, or stitched a wound, but this was different.

Dutch stood up, and let Hosea sit on the cot, still holding your hand.

“Nizhoni? Listen carefully?” Hosea began, “what can you see? Can you see anything?” he asked.

You looked at Hosea, “Nizhoni not see Hosea, Nizhoni see shape,” you whimpered.

Hosea glanced at Dutch, and motioned with his head, for him to follow.

Dutch gently squeezed your hand, “Nizhoni, I’m just gonna talk to Hosea.”

As Dutch walked away, you started to cry, “Dutch send Nizhoni away, Nizhoni no good,” you wailed.

Dutch immediately turned back, and touched his hand to your face.

“No, Nizhoni. I’ll never send you away. We’re gonna find a way to fix this.”

Dutch gently kissed you on the forehead, “just...Just trust me, Nizhoni,” he soothed.

You watched as the blurred figure of Dutch disappeared, tears still running down your cheek.

  
Dutch walked out the tent, and stood next to Hosea.

“Hosea?” he questioned.

Hosea sighed, “its the knock to the head...I don’t know Dutch. We need to get her to a doctor!”

Dutch raked his fingers through his hair.

“God-damn it, Hosea. Where we gonna find a doctor. We can’t take her to Valentine, and West Elizabeth is out of the question. She won’t go without me, and I can’t go there!”

Hosea shook his head, “I don't know. Josiah knows the area, we should ask him when they get back, maybe he knows of another doctor.”

Dutch paced up and down, “well I hope he gets back soon,” he hesitated, “she ain't gonna go completely blind, is she Hosea?”

Hosea shrugged, “Honestly Dutch, I don't know. All I know is we need to get her to a doctor, and fast!”


	12. The Doctor

Dutch scanned the hitching area, and the path into camp, for about the tenth time. Searching for any sign of the returning riders. Beads of sweat peppered his head. Some of it due to the heat of the day, some due to stress.

Hosea walked over, and shook his head,

“Ya know Dutch, staring at the path, ain't gonna make ‘em arrive any sooner.”

Dutch sighed, “where the hell are they, how long does it take to rescue an Irish terrier!”

“Knowing Sean, a lot longer than normal,” he scoffed, not hiding his dislike for the youngster. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be seeing to Nizhoni, it seems lately you’re the only one she really trusts!” He added.

Dutch walked back over to the tent, and peered inside.

He looked at you on the cot. You had drifted back to sleep after he had persuaded you, with some difficulty, to take the medicine that Hosea had brought. At least if you were sleeping, it might help your body to heal, maybe even your eyes. He could only hope.

“She’s still sleeping, thankfully.” Dutch replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Hosea looked down at his shoes, and kick some of the soil around.

“What will you do...I mean, if she goes completely blind, Dutch?”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, waiting for Hosea to look at him. Why was he even talking that way.

After a few moments, Hosea did look up.

“What do you think I’ll do Hosea? You want me to cast her aside? Leave her in some godforsaken wilderness to be food for the animals?” Dutch growled.

Hosea sighed, “Of course not,” he replied quietly, “but a blind girl, in a camp of outlaws? Its not ideal!”

Dutch laughed mirthlessly, “you think nearly being raped by soldiers, cast out by her family, savaged by wolves, and beaten to a pulp by the sheriff are ideal! She didn't ask for this, Hosea and I’m not about to let her down, like she’s been let down by everyone else!” he roared.

Hosea held his hands up in mock surrender, he’d obviously hit a nerve.

“I’m just putting it out there, Dutch. I’m not suggesting...”

“Then don’t even mention it!” Dutch growled.

Dutch turned and walked back into the tent, leaving Hosea outside.

Dutch sat down on the cot next to you, stroking your forehead, as you slept.

He felt completely useless. Of course it wasn't ideal, if you did lose your sight. But Hosea wouldn’t have even mentioned it, if it had been John or Arthur.

There were lots of things about the gang which weren't ideal. Having a five year old little boy, running around to name but one, but no one mentioned it, not even Micah. They were family, and family stuck together.

  
Dutch was lost in his thoughts, when he heard a voice behind him.

“Dutch...How is she?” Josiah asked.

Dutch spun around, a look of relief on his face.

“Josiah, has Hosea told you anything?” he asked.

Josiah nodded, and took a step closer looking at you lying on the bed.

“Does she always wear so few clothes?” he asked curiously.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “Now, Josiah isn't really the time. Do you know of a doctor, other than the ones in Valentine and West Elizabeth?”

Josiah’s face flushed slightly.

“Sorry, its just...I’ve never seen a native before. I always wondered about them,” he rattled on.

Dutch looked at Josiah and raised his eyebrows, “Josiah!”

“Oh, yes...a doctor. There's a very good one in St. Denis, he’s a friend of mine. I wouldn't take anyone to that quack in Valentine, even if it were possible.” he declared.

Dutch shook his head, “St. Denis, Josiah. You saw what happened when she went to Valentine! Besides, she’ll be terrified, all those people!”

Josiah hummed, “come to think of it, I think he comes out once a week to a small town, Rhodes, he holds a clinic there, as luck would have it, he’s due there today. If we hurry, we can make it,” he suggested.

Dutch nodded, he rubbed your hand gently, “Nizhoni...Nizhoni sweetheart, wake up?”

You groaned, slowly waking from your drug induced sleep.

As you opened your eyes, you noticed another person in the room. You couldn’t see who it was, but you knew it wasn’t Hosea. You stiffened. “Dutch!” you exclaimed, panic in your voice.

“Its ok Nizhoni, this is my friend Josiah. He’s here to help.” Dutch explained.

Josiah took a step towards the cot, “Hello Nizhoni, my names Josiah, I’m very pleased to meet you, my dear.”

Josiah held out his hand. You looked at the blurred hand in front of you. You knew you were supposed to shake his hand, but you were a little confused.

“White man? Not white man voice?” you queried.

Josiah chuckled, “I’m guessing you don't get many Englishmen where you come from.”

Dutch smiled, “Nizhoni, we’re gonna take you to a doctor, let him look at your eyes.”

You shook your head frantically. “Not white doctor. White doctor hurt Nizhoni, you gasped.”

Dutch frowned, “What do you mean, have you seen a doctor before? When?”

You nodded, “Nizhoni small. Doctor come with soldiers. Put knife in Nizhoni arm.”

Josiah chuckled, “vaccinations Dutch. I heard the army vaccinated all the Indian children when they put them on the reservations!”

Dutch sighed, and shook his head, “fucking army, they’re worse than the law!”

Dutch gently stroked your face, “I wont let him hurt you, Nizhoni. He just needs to take a look at your eyes, no needles.”

You frowned, “Dutch promise, Dutch protect Nizhoni.”

Dutch nodded, and put his hand on your back, helping you to sit. As you sat up, you felt sick and the room started to spin.

“Nizhoni feel bad, all spin!” you groaned.

Josiah gave Dutch a concerned look. “that doesn't sound good, will she let you carry her?”

Dutch nodded, “Nizhoni, I’m gonna carry you, it’ll be ok.”

You closed your eyes, if it hadn't been for the lack of food, you would have probably been sick.

“Not go in wagon,” you groaned.

Dutch picked you up, whilst Josiah opened the tent flap.

“No sweetheart,” Dutch confirmed, smiling slightly, “I’m gonna carry you, on The Count.”

  
Dutch placed you astride The Count, then mounted up behind you, wrapping one arm around, and holding the reins with the other.

“Nizhoni sleep,” you moaned.

Dutch smiled, “just lean back, I got you,” he whispered.

You leaned back, and nuzzled your face into his neck. He gently kissed your temple, as you dozed.

Josiah mounted his horse Gwydion, and the three of you rode out of camp, heading south.

It was mid-day, and quite warm, so neither Josiah or Dutch pushed their horses too hard. Rhodes was only about an hours ride away, besides, Dutch didn't want to bounce you around too much, but let you rest as much as you could, albeit in the saddle.

  
Rhodes was a sleepy little town, and whilst Dutch was slightly concerned that the doctors office was right next the jail, nobody seemed to be taking a huge deal of notice of the strange trio. Certainly enough to be on the lookout for a wanted outlaw, and a runaway native girl.

Dutch gently woke you, before he hitched the count. Josiah, had already gone into the doctors office.

Everything was a blur, but you made out shapes of buildings, adding to the realisation that this was a town.

“Dutch promise, not hurt Nizhoni,” you whimpered.

Dutch put his hand gently on your cheek, “I promise, I wont let anyone hurt you,” he whispered.

Once Dutch had dismounted, he gently lifted you down, and carried you in to the doctors office.

  
For first time, you gripped on tightly to Dutch, albeit with one hand. The room where he carried you had a strange smell about it, one that immediately made you nervous.

“Its ok Nizhoni,” Dutch soothed, “I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you, I’ll be here with you.”

The doctor motioned towards a chair, so Dutch gently placed you on it. He crouched down next to you, holding your hand and gently stroking your face.

Dutch looked at the doctor, “She’s not had very good experiences with white men lately.”

The doctor nodded, and walked over to where you were sitting. He smelt like the room, you thought.

“Now young lady, what’s your name?” the doctor asked.

Dutch was about to answer, but the doctor held his hand up, motioning for Dutch not to answer.

Dutch frowned, but gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Nizhoni,” you mumbled.

“Well Nizhoni, my name is Doctor Andrew Johnson, now how about you try and tell me what happened,” he asked gently.

You squinted, trying to see him better. “Nizhoni eyes broken. White man hurt Nizhoni on wall. Hit Nizhoni with gun. Hurt Nizhoni,” you mumbled.

The doctor nodded, “Now I’m going to take the bandages off, and take a look at your head and your hand, then I’ll take a look at your eyes, ok?”

You narrowed your eyes, “doctor not hurt Nizhoni?”

“No, I’ll try not to hurt you Nizhoni, but if it hurts, you tell me, ok?” Doctor Johnson reassured.

You nodded, “Nizhoni tell.”

Doctor Johnson smiled, and started to remove the bandage from your head. He examined the wound, and hummed. Then he unwrapped your hand, and hummed again.

Dutch glanced nervously at Josiah, who shrugged.

“Ok Nizhoni, I’m going to look in your eyes now,” the doctor advised.

Doctor Johnson, looked at Dutch, and he removed his hand from your face. You stiffened, and squeezed Dutch’s hand.

“It’s ok, sweetheart, just relax,” Dutch soothed.

The doctor, put one hand on your forehead, and pulled your top eyelid back with his thumb, and held a magnifying glass to your eye.

“Please not hurt,” you whimpered.

It only lasted a few seconds, but once he was done, you buried you head into Dutch’s chest.

“It didn’t hurt did it?” Dutch asked you.

You shook your head, “Nizhoni scared,” you whimpered.

Dutch stroked your cheek, “I know, sweetheart, but its nearly over.”

  
The doctor, walked over to the desk. He glanced over at you a couple of times.

“Gentlemen, a word if you wouldn’t mind!” He stated, tersely.

Dutch, pressed his lips to your knuckles, “I won’t be long,” he soothed.

He stood up and walked over to where the doctor stood with Josiah.

“I don’t know who caused these injuries, and to be frank I don't want to know,” he began, sternly, “She has a severe concussion, which has caused the issues with her vision,” he stated.

Dutch glanced over at you, then back at the doctor, “will it get any better, or any worse,” he asked, a worried look on his face, “she’s been complaining of dizziness too!”

The doctors expression softened slightly, “It’s only temporary. Her sight will return to normal, it may take some time, a few days, maybe a week. You’ll need to put these in her eyes,” he handed Dutch a small bottle of eye-drops.

The doctor picked up another bottle, “this is for pain relief, it will also cause her to sleep.”

Dutch took the second bottle, “we gave her some medicine earlier, yarrow and ginseng, she didn’t take it easily, it tasted foul,” Dutch admitted.

The doctor rolled his eyes, “its an old wives tale that medicine only does you any good if it tastes bad. That should taste a lot better than ginseng and yarrow!”

The doctor continued, “there's no need to bandage her head, or her hand. The hand is badly bruised, not broken. The same can be said for her jaw and ribs. She just needs to rest.”

The doctor sighed, “and she is underweight. When did she last eat?”

Dutch hummed, “Maybe a couple of days ago, she didn't eat much before we found her in the mountains, and she had a fever for a week when the wolf bit her!”

The doctor raised his eyebrows, “The bandage on her shoulder, would you like me to take a look?”

Dutch glanced at Josiah.

“You might as well, whilst we’re here!” Josiah suggested.

Dutch nodded, “could you take a look at her back, as well?”

The doctor frowned, “her back? What's wrong with her back?”

Dutch sighed, “easier if you see, rather than explain.”

  
The doctor walked back over, “Nizhoni, I’m going to have a look at your shoulder, if that's ok?”

You nodded, as you removed your arm from your tunic.

The doctor unwrapped the bandage, and looked at the wound, and the stitches.

“Who did this?” he asked.

“One of our people,” Dutch replied, defensively.

The doctor nodded, “they did an admirable job. I think we can remove the stitches now though, it looks pretty well healed.”

Dutch took your hand, and squeezed it, “the doctor is going to take out the stitches.”

You looked at Dutch, you stiffened and a look of panic shot across your face.

“Doctor not hurt!” you pleaded.

The doctor smiled, “don’t worry, it may pull a little, but it shouldn't hurt.”

You felt a cold sensation as the scissors touched your skin, making you flinch slightly. The doctor however, was true to his word, and there was no pain.

  
Dutch helped you to lean forward. The doctor touched his finger to the mark on your back. He shook his head, “barbaric!” he exclaimed, “but its healed well, but it will always leave a scar,” he concluded.

The doctor stepped back, “well I think you’re done here, Nizhoni, I hope your trust in doctors has been restored!”

You looked at the doctor, “doctor good man.”

The doctor chuckled, “I think I’m happy with that, all things considered.”

He glanced over at Dutch, “I think it wouldn't be a bad idea to get this young lady a bath, the hot water will help the bruising, and clean off some of the dried blood.”

You frowned, “Nizhoni bathe in river!”

Josiah looked at you, and wrinkled his nose, “not lately, I have to say!”

Dutch nodded, and held out his hand to the doctor.

“Thank you, Nizhoni hasn't been with us long, but she’s part of our family now. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, send word to Tacitus Kilgore. I’ll only be too happy to help.”

The doctor smiled, and shook Dutch’s hand, “I doubt I will need your assistance, but I appreciate the offer!”

Dutch nodded, “come on Nizhoni, lets get you a bath, and a meal before we head back.”

You frowned, you didn't like the idea of a bath, but food sounded good.


	13. The Bath

Josiah had already headed to the door of the doctors office and held it open. Both he and Dutch had assumed that Dutch would be carrying you, but you had other ideas.

As Dutch went to pick you up, you shook your head.

“Nizhoni not baby. Nizhoni walk,” you demanded.

Dutch frowned, “you didn't have a problem being carried before!”

You stood up, and steadied yourself, the world was still a blur, but you felt a little less dizzy and the nausea had passed. Probably because you were getting used to your current state.

“Nizhoni walk.” you grumbled.

The doctor rolled his eyes, “it shouldn't do any harm, just make sure she rests when you get home, Oh and you may find that she’s a little irritable. Its a side effect of the concussion, but this will also pass.”

Dutch nodded, and sighed, “ok you can walk, but my arm is being firmly wrapped around you, whether you like it or not!”

You cast a glance at the doctor, as Dutch wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand gently resting on your bare stomach.

You were glad, he was still holding onto you tightly. After Valentine, the town made you nervous, but you didn't want to appear weak, even if you were. Besides, you couldn't really see where you were going.

Dutch guided you up the street, and the three of you headed towards the Rhodes parlour house. Not being able to see properly had its benefits, you didn't know if other people were staring or giving you filthy looks. You didn't hear any nasty comments so you figured Rhodes may be different from Valentine.

As you approached the Rhodes parlour house, you stopped.

Dutch looked at you, “What's the matter?”

“Nizhoni not need bath,” you stated, frowning.

Josiah stopped, and glanced at you, eyeing you up and down, “I think you probably do! When did you last have one?”

You thought for a moment, “Nizhoni not know,” you lifted your arm, and smelt your armpit.

“Nizhoni not smell! Not need bath,” you concluded.

Dutch chuckled, “well you haven’t had a bath since you’ve been with us. Besides, we need to get all the dried blood out of your hair, and a hot bath will sooth all those aches and bruises!”

You frowned, “hot like fire! Hurt Nizhoni!”

Josiah walked towards you, “it won’t be hot like fire, it’ll be warm, like...” He hesitated, “like stew!”

You screwed up your nose, “Nizhoni not bath in stew!”

Dutch chuckled, “You’re not having a bath in stew! The water will be warm. Now come on, you’re gonna have a bath whether you want one or not!”

You frowned and pouted, folding your arms.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “If you act like a child, I’ll treat you like one and carry you to the bath!”

You heaved a sigh. It was looking like you didn't have much choice.

Dutch glanced over at Josiah, grinning. “Would you mind going to the store and getting her a change of clothes, Josiah.”

You frowned again, “Nizhoni not wear white man clothes. White man clothes scratchy!” You protested.

“Maybe,”Dutch responded, but you’ve been wearing those since we were in the grizzlies, you need a change. You can wear these once they’ve been washed.”

“Nizhoni wash clothes in bath!” you exclaimed.

Dutch chuckled, “Just get a good quality shirt, and some pants. If they’re loose fitting she wont complain so much,”

Josiah nodded, and marched off to the general store.

“C’mon,” he directed you, smiling, “lets get this over with, then you can have some food!”

With his arm still wrapped around you, the pair of you walked into the parlour house. The street had been ok, you didn't hear much, the occasional horse. Some one wishing someone else a good morning. He had been relatively quiet.

That all changed when you entered the parlour house. All you could hear were a babble of voices. Nothing specifically directed at you, but you knew there were a lot of people inside. More specifically white people. The sort of people who had beaten you in the sheriff’s office, or had made comments when they saw you in Valentine. As far as you knew there might even be soldiers. Not being able to see for yourself, somehow made it worse.

You heard Dutch talk to a man behind the counter, asking for a bath. You tried to close off your ears, and press yourself a little closer to Dutch.

“It’s ok, we’ll be away from here in a moment,” he soothed.

As promised, he quickly guided you through another door, which led down a corridor. The noise of the voices, getting quieter as you walked to where ever Dutch was taking you.

Dutch suddenly stopped and opened another door. As you walked into the room, the heat hit you.

He quietly closed the door behind you.

“This way,” he whispered, “give me your hand.”

You held out your hand, and he pulled it towards the heat, you offered a little resistance. Was it going to be as hot as the fire.

“It’s ok, Nizhoni, its just so you can feel the temperature. So you know its not hot,” Dutch explained.

You relaxed and let him take your hand.

You gasped a little, when he touched your hand to the water, and tensed a little. You soon relaxed, however, when you realised it wasn’t going to hurt.

“Ok?” Dutch confirmed.

You nodded, and started to remove your clothes.

“Wait!” Dutch exclaimed. “There's a screen, get undressed behind it, take this towel,” he advised.

You frowned, “Dutch not like Nizhoni?” you asked, slightly confused.

Dutch chuckled, “not at all, I just thought...”

You shrugged, and started to undress. It didn't take long, to quickly slip out of your tunic and loincloth.

Dutch stared at your naked form, “fucking perfect,” he growled under his breath.

“Dutch help Nizhoni get in?” you asked.

Dutch walked over to you, biting his bottom lip, then licking it. He just wanted to put his hands all over your naked form, but he restrained himself, and instead took your hand, and lead you over to the bath.

You lifted your leg over the side. He let go of your hand, and put his hands on your waist. You heard his breathing heavily, as he steadied you. You lifted your other leg over the edge, and sat down. His hands slipped from your waist, and one gently steadied you as he supported your back.

You smiled, probably for the first time.

“Nizhoni like bath,” you sighed.

Dutch hummed, “yes, so do I!”He smirked.

He sat on the edge of the tub, “Now, lets get you clean!” he exclaimed, as he reached for the soap.

Dutch lathered the soap on his hands and started to massage your body.

He started with your shoulders, gently moving down your arms, then onto your back.

His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

“Lean back,” he whispered.

You did as he asked, completely trusting that he would keep you safe. He’d done that already, so many times. The only time you’d been hurt was when he wasn’t there.

You gazed at him, although you couldn’t see much, you knew he would be able to see you looking. For him to know that you were placing your trust in him.

His other hand, gently moved across you stomach.

As his hands moved across your breasts, you gasped and arched your back, as you felt pleasure engulf your body. The touch was fleeting as his hands moved across your velvet skin.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, as his soapy hands continued to caress the rest of your body.

“Now lets wash your hair, and get rid of all that dried blood,” he suggested.

You nodded. You were enjoying this more than you thought you would.

Dutch helped you to sit, then carefully poured water over your hair. Gently wiping away the blood around the back of your head. As he massaged the top of your head, you let out a little moan.

“Does that feel good,” he whispered in your ear.

You hummed softly in acknowledgement, as you closed your eyes.

Your eyes snapped open, as you heard a bang on the door.

“It’s Josiah, I have the clothes,” he yelled through the wooden door.

Dutch went to the door, much to your disappointment. Opening the door a crack, he took the clothes.

“We’ll be out in a few moments,” he confirmed.

Dutch put the clothes on a chair, and walked back to the bath, a towel in his hands.

“C’mon, lets get you out and dry.”

You sighed, “Nizhoni stay longer?” you asked.

Dutch chuckled, “the water will be cold, you can always come again another day, if you like it.”

“Dutch bring Nizhoni to bath again?” you asked, hopefully.

He chuckled, “Oh anytime you like, Nizhoni. Its my pleasure!”

Dutch helped you to stand, and then wrapped the towel around you.

Before you had a chance to step out of the bath, he had scooped you up in his arms.

You squealed, then giggled, as he carried you over to the chair.

Sitting down, he sat you on his lap, and started to dry you gently with the towel.

You touched the fabric of the towel, “soft,” you cooed.

Dutch pressed his lips to your forehead, “just like you,” he purred.

You buried you head into his shoulder, “Dutch hold Nizhoni.”

Dutch smiled, “later on, poor Josiah is waiting and you need to have some food!”

You sighed, and nodded.

Dutch took the towel from around your body, and gently slipped on the new shirt.

You were quite surprised, its was very soft.

You ran your hand up and down the material. “Not Scratch. Soft!” you exclaimed.

Dutch smiled, slipped your legs in the underwear, gently pulling it on.

You frowned, “Nizhoni not like. Not wear!” you exclaimed.

Dutch chuckled, as he lifted you from his lap.

“I don’t quite think that Rhodes Parlour House is ready for its female patrons to walk around wearing no underwear,” he chuckled.

Dutch stood up and wrapped his arm around your waist, you frowned, not liking the barrier of cloth between his hand and your skin.

Dutch lead you from the bathroom, none the wiser.


	14. Rhodes and Home

As Dutch led you back down the corridor, from the bathroom. The noises from the saloon slowly grew louder. You stiffened, and began to slow down.

Dutch stopped, and turned you towards him. His hand gently touched your face.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked.

You nodded, “but Dutch is one, they are many,” you mumbled.

Dutch smiled, “Don’t you worry about that,” he smirked, as he carried on guiding you along the corridor towards the saloon.

At the end of the corridor, Dutch opened the door which lead to the saloon. As you walked through the door, you felt his arm wrap around you just that little bit tighter. As before there was a cacophony of voices. Instead of stopping at the bar, like last time, Dutch carried on walking to one of the side booths where Josiah was already seated.

Dutch guided you to the seat, and slid in after you.

“See,” he whispered, his arm still wrapped around your waist, “if anyone wants to get to you, they have to go through me.”

Josiah waved his hand, towards the bar, and a short while later, a waitress brought over three plates of food.

As soon as the plate was placed in front of you, you sniffed at the steak, which was on the plate.

You picked it up with your hands, and started tearing chunks out of it with your teeth.

Josiah frowned, “I don’t suppose she’s ever heard of a knife and fork?” he asked, looking at Dutch.

Dutch chuckled, “I doubt it, she is a native after all. I love her innocence!”

Josiah smirked, “when she tears a steak apart with her teeth, she looks anything but innocent.”

You looked up from your plate across the table at Josiah.

“Josiah not eat?” you asked.

Josiah picked up his knife and fork, “Yes Nizhoni, but with these.”

You shrugged, and carried on using your hands and teeth.

Josiah chuckled, “Where did you find her, Dutch?”

Dutch smiled, and stroked your cheek, “in the mountains, when we ran from Blackwater. Well Bill found her, tried to kill her!”

Josiah rolled his eyes, “figures for Bill.”

You finished the steak, and wiped your mouth with your arm. You leant into Dutch.

“Nizhoni tired,” you mumbled.

Dutch stroked your hair, “we’ll head back soon.”

You closed your eyes, and started to doze.

Josiah glanced at you, then looked at Dutch, “so what exactly happened to her,” he whispered.

Dutch glanced at you, dosing, unaware of the discussion he was having with Josiah.

“She was taken by the soldiers, with her sisters. She escaped, but the soldiers went back to her village, and killed five of the young men in retaliation, so her tribe marked her as an outcast. Branded her,” he hissed.

Josiah shook his head, “is it any wonder they refer to them as savages!”

Dutch narrowed his eyes, “that’s not a description we use, Josiah. Its only used by ignorant people, who’ve never got to know them. Nizhoni is as far removed from a savage, as you could get. She saved John’s life ya know!”

“Sorry Dutch, I didn’t mean… So what happened in Valentine?” Josiah asked, quickly changing the subject.

Dutch sighed, “Molly ratted her out to the sheriff. He treated her like an animal, which is what brought us hear. I hope your doctor friend is right, and her sight loss is only temporary.”

Josiah frowned, “so I’m assuming Molly is...”

“Yes, she’s gone,” Dutch quickly interjected.

“And Nizhoni, is she your next… significant other?”

Dutch smiled, “I can only hope, but that will be her decision. After her recent experiences with white males, I won’t push too hard.”

Josiah nodded, and looked at you, “maybe we should head back, take Andrews advice, and let her rest.”

Dutch nodded. He gently lifted you from the booth. You moaned sleepily, and nuzzled into his shoulder.

Josiah smirked, “I think she may have made her decision already.”

The two men walked out the Parlour house, Dutch carrying you, asleep in his arms.

That was until, he passed you across to Josiah, whilst he mounted The Count.

You stirred, still half asleep, but realised you were no longer with Dutch.

You started to lash out with your good hand, landing a couple of blows to Josiah’s chest.

“No Dutch!” You yelled.

“Nizhoni, its ok,” Dutch called out.

You stopped hitting, and as soon as you did, Josiah passed you back to Dutch.

You frowned, now awake, “Not hold. Only Dutch hold,” you scowled.

Dutch adjusted your position on the front of the saddle, and wrapped an arm around you.

“Its ok, I’ve got you. Josiah wont hurt you, we didn't want to disturb you while you slept,” he soothed.

You leaned into Dutch’s chest, “only Dutch,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

Josiah rolled his eyes, “point taken, I’ll remember that in future!”

He quickly mounted Gwydion and they headed out of Rhodes, Dutch unable to keep from smiling to himself.

Dutch pushed on a little harder on the return journey to camp. He was keen to get you back so that you could rest. He was also well aware that he should be there, when Arthur, Javier and Charles returned with Sean.

He knew Hosea was there, but it was common knowledge that Hosea didn't really like him. For the life of him, Dutch couldn’t understand why. Yes he was young and impulsive, but he wasn’t a bad kid.

As they headed down the path towards camp, Karen lifted up her hand in acknowledgement. There was no need to shout out, Dutch’s horse was instantly recognisable.

“Is she gonna be ok?” Karen asked, as they rider came level.

Dutch nodded, “time and rest,” he commented.

Karen chuckled quietly, “good luck with that!”

Once Dutch had hitched The Count, he was careful to dismount, before lifting you down. He didn't want a repeat performance, of you lashing out at someone, just because it wasn't him.

You were drowsy, but not asleep. Although Dutch was right in his assumption that you wouldn’t take much rocking. He didn't ask if you wanted to walk, and you didn't protest when he carried you, heading towards his tent.

Dutch looked over his shoulder at Josiah, “You may as well sleep in Nizhoni’s tent tonight.” he suggested.

Josiah nodded and chuckled.

Dutch frowned, “its just till her eyesight returns!” he exclaimed.

Josiah rolled his eyes, “we’ll see!”

Before Dutch even made it back to his tent, he was intercepted by Arthur.

“How is she? Is she gonna be ok? Hosea told me about her eyes!”

Dutch smiled, “she’s gonna be fine, she just needs time and rest. What about you? Did you get Sean back ok?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “yeah, the little shit. He never shuts up!”

“I’ll go find him in a bit, maybe we can have a party. People have been through a lot, lets kick back a bit.” Dutch suggested.

Arthur looked at Nizhoni, “are you sure? It wont be too much for her?”

Dutch looked down at you, head resting on his chest.

“She’ll be fine,” he replied, “If she can cope with Rhodes Parlour House, and a strange doctor, a camp party will be a breeze. Besides, she’s surrounded by friends here.”

Arthur nodded, “I’ll let you put her to bed then.”

Dutch carried you into his tent, and laid you on the cot.

You opened your eyes, reaching under the shirt you were wearing, you pulled off the undergarments.

“Nizhoni not like,” you mumbled, and threw them on the floor.

Dutch sat on the edge of the cot, chuckling, “but the shirt is ok?” he asked.

You shook your head. You sat up, and started to unbutton it.

“Nizhoni hot.” you complained.

“Wait!” Dutch exclaimed, “You can’t just...lay on my bed naked!”

You frowned, “why? Dutch not like Nizhoni?”

Dutch shook his head, and cupped your cheek in his hand.

“Its not that sweetheart, I like you a lot, its just...”he hesitated, as his thumb stroked your cheek.

You touched the back of his hand, covering it with yours.

“Nizhoni trust Dutch. Dutch good man,” you whispered.

Dutch shook his head, “if only you knew,” he mumbled under his breath.

He sighed, as he removed his hand, “very well, we’ll take the shirt off, but you need to rest and cover yourself with a blanket. I’ll get Susan or one of the girls to wash your clothes!”

Dutch finished unbuttoning the shirt, and slipped it off your shoulders.

You sat on the bed naked, looking at him.

Dutch gazed at you, “You’re not making this easy are you?” He whispered.

You tilted your head, and blinked your big brown doe eyes.

“Nizhoni not understand.”

Dutch chuckled, “of course you don’t, you’re just too innocent,” he mumbled to himself.

“Lay down, and get some rest,” he advised, grabbing a blanket and covering you.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” he leant over swept the hair away from your forehead, followed by a gentle kiss.

“And don’t go anywhere until I get back!” Dutch ordered.

He had visions of you, walking out the tent naked.

Hosea was standing outside his tent, as Dutch left it, closing the flap behind him.

“How is she, is her sight going to be ok?” Hosea asked.

Dutch sighed, “yes, her sight will recover. A few days, maybe a week at most.”

Hosea frowned, “what's the matter then? I thought you’d be pleased.”

Dutch pinched his brow, “of course I’m pleased,” he hesitated, “Hosea, how old do you think she is?”

“Difficult to tell, maybe seventeen, or eighteen,” Hosea chuckled, “maybe you should have thought about that before you whisked her off to your tent!”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “She’s so innocent, and naive. She took her clothes off, Hosea! When I told her not to, she thought I didn't like her, for Christ sake!”

Hosea grinned, stifling a laugh.

“Its not funny, Hosea. She’s a beautiful. I do like her a lot, but I’m not about to take advantage of her innocence like that. Just because I’m the first white man she felt she could trust!”

Hosea put his hand on his friends shoulder.

“Now you listen to me, you’ve always liked the younger pretty women...”

Dutch frowned.

“Let me finish, there's nothing wrong with that, they seem to like you. Yes she’s innocent, but if it wasn't you, it would be someone else, and they’d probably take full advantage of the situation.” Hosea concluded.

Dutch continued to frown, as he glanced around camp, “someone else, like who?”

“Virtually every man here… with the exception of myself, and perhaps Arthur. He would be like you, he wouldn't take advantage either. The others though, Javier, Sean. Micah and Lenny, if they were here. Even the O’Driscoll boy. She’s better off with you Dutch, believe you me!”

Dutch raked his fingers through his hair.

“Maybe, but I don't know how long I’m gonna be able to control myself for, she’s fucking gorgeous!” Dutch concluded.

Hosea smiled, “you’ll do what's right, I know you Dutch Van der Linde. Now give me her dirty clothes, and I’ll give them to one of the girls. They won’t take long to dry, its not like there's a lot of ‘em!”


	15. The Great Serpent

As the sun set over horseshoe overlook, Dutch returned to his tent. Hosea as promised had your clothes washed and dried. One of the girls had left them in a neat pile outside Dutch’s tent.

Dutch smiled to himself, as he picked up the clothes and headed inside. His gang was like a well oiled machine, everyone playing their part, even down to the girls cleaning and mending the clothes.

Dutch thought about Molly. She had never really fit in here, never really been part of the gang, not really.

He sighed, pushing the thought out his mind, as he opened the tent.

The sight he saw made him smile.

You were still asleep, although your sleep had been restless. The blanket that Dutch had covered you in, was strewn on the floor of the tent. You must have tossed and turned, and now lay sleeping peacefully on your stomach.

Dutch walked quietly over to the cot, gazing at your naked body. He sat on the edge of the cot, his hand gravitated towards you, as he traced his fingers down your spine. You moaned in you sleep, as a tremor ran along your back, in the wake of Dutch’s touch. He then placed the flat of his hand, on the firm cheeks of your bottom. He closed his eyes, then bit his bottom lip, before taking a deep breath.

He leant his head over your back, and placed his lips onto the mark in the centre of your back, and gently kissed it.

As you roused from your sleep you gasped.

“Its OK Nizhoni,” Dutch whispered, his hand still resting on your buttocks.

You looked over your shoulder, “Dutch?” you questioned.

“I’m just waking you up,” he offered, as he removed his hand.

You rolled over onto your back, then pushed yourself up until you were sitting.

Dutch laid your clothes on the bed, “I’ve had your clothes washed, do you need help getting dressed?”

You frowned, “Dutch put lips on mark. Kiss. Why?”

Dutch reached his hand out, and touched your cheek. “I thought you were sleeping?”

“Nizhoni sleep, then wake, feel breath, then lips.”

Dutch smiled, “your very special, Nizhoni, the mark you have makes you strong, adds to your beauty.”

You shook your head, “Touch serpent. Bad luck!”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “its just a mark, Nizhoni. It shows how strong you’ve been, how strong you are!”

You shook your head, more strongly this time.

“Nizhoni bad! Cheat death. Great Serpent bring death! Nizhoni not hurt Dutch,” you insisted.

Dutch touched your face, “Nizhoni, listen to me. You weren't born with it, someone put it there. Just because you refused to sacrifice yourself, doesn't make you a bad person.”

“Dutch take serpent, make Nizhoni good?” you asked.

Dutch looked at you and frowned. The mark hand been burned into your flesh with hot metal. How could he possibly take it away.

“Nizhoni, if I could remove it from you I would, but I can’t,” he tried to explain.

You nodded, “Dutch take away, with fire. Nizhoni then Dutch’s woman!”

Dutch stared at you aghast, “I wont hurt you, Nizhoni. Not like that. I won’t do that to you, not again!”

You lowered head, and looked down, “Dutch not like Nizhoni.” you whispered, as a tear escaped your eye.

Dutch gently took hold of your chin, and tilted your head up, so that you were looking at him,

“Nizhoni, I like you very much, and I care about you. I can’t… I won’t hurt you.” Dutch restated, as he wiped the tear away with his thumb.

You picked up the clothes from the bed, and started to put them on.

Once you were dressed you looked at Dutch.

“No more touch Nizhoni. Serpent stay. Nizhoni sleep alone.” you stated.

Dutch stood up, and held out his hand,

“Well at least meet everyone, have something to eat. Then I’ll take you to your tent,” he sighed.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, and stared at Dutch.

“Not touch, Nizhoni walk by self,” you stated.

Dutch shook his head, “you can barely see, at least let me guide you!”

You quickly shook your head, “Nizhoni manage. Nizhoni not have Dutch, not have any!”

You stood up, the lack of light, made your sight slightly worse. You could see the firelight from outside though, so you headed towards what you thought was the door, stumbling into a chair.

“Nizhoni!” Dutch exclaimed, “This is ridiculous! Put your hand on my shoulder, so I can guide you, at least until your sight returns.”

You rubbed your leg, where it hand banged into the chair.

“Nizhoni hold shoulder, Dutch not touch.” you concluded.

The pair of you exited the tent. Hosea was standing there, looking perplexed.

“What's going on?” he asked Dutch.

Dutch sighed, “Just let me take her to a seat, then I’ll tell you.”

Dutch lead you over to a table, where Tilly and Mary-Beth were sitting.

Once you were sat, he grabbed a bowl of food, and put it in front of you.

“Let me know if you need anything else?” he whispered.

You nodded, but didn't look at him. You were disappointed. You thought he liked you. You trusted him, but it seemed you were once again mistaken. You had virtually offered yourself to him, in return for doing this for you, but he had denied you. You realised now that the elders were right. You should have died in the mountains. The serpent would bring chaos and darkness. You wouldn’t allow it to bring chaos and darkness to these people. Charles had told you they were good people, you should have made your escape in the mountains, before you had been bitten. You should have been brave enough to accept your fate. It wasn't too late though, once your eyes were healed, you would leave. Return to the mountains and embrace whatever fate had in store for you.

Dutch walked back over to Hosea, as he reached his friend, he stopped and sighed.

“What’s going on Dutch? she seems like a different person!”

Dutch reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small flask, he lifted the stopper and took a large swallow, before offering it to Hosea.

“She wants me to burn off the mark on her back. She thinks it makes her some evil spirit. God-damn Indian mumbo jumbo!” He hissed.

Hosea took the flask, and gulped down some of the fine brandy, contained within.

“You’re not serious, Dutch? Why would she put herself through that again!”

Dutch shook his head, “I’ve no idea, Hosea. She virtually offered herself to me, if I agreed.”

“You didn't agree then?” Hosea asked.

Dutch glared at Hosea, “of course I didn't!” he snapped.

Hosea passed the flask back to Dutch.

“You know what I said earlier, about people taking advantage,” he hesitated, “if she wants that mark gone, then I don’t doubt someone will do it.”

“No one around here will,” Dutch scowled, “I wont let it happen!”

Hosea put his hands on Dutch’s shoulders, and stared him in the face.

“If she wants this badly enough, when her eyes are healed, she’ll go and find someone. What if she finds someone like Colm O’Driscoll?”

Dutch pushed Hosea’s hands from his shoulders, and took a step backward.

“What are you saying Hosea? Are you saying I should do it. Burn her flesh to get rid of a mark that means nothing!”

Hosea sighed, “it means nothing to you, but it clearly means a lot to her. If you care for her at all, then do it. Talk to Charles, find out what it means to her. I’ll be here, so will Susan. We’ll make sure that she heals.”

Dutch looked across at you sitting at the table, like a fish out of water. He’d wanted this night to be full of enjoyment, celebration. The others were celebrating the return of Sean, and rightly so. He’d wanted to spend time with you, get closer to you. Now that stupid mark on your back was getting in the way. Dutch wasn’t a particularly religious man, but all he could see was your beliefs getting in the way of both your happiness. Religion had a lot to answer for.

Dutch scanned the camp, and saw Charles sitting at one of the other campfires, keeping a discreet distance from the rest of the partying. Maybe he could talk to him, or get him to talk to Nizhoni.

He headed towards where Charles was sitting, grabbing a couple of beers on the way.

When he reached the fire, he sat down next to Charles, and passed him a beer.

“Not enjoying the party Charles?” He asked.

Charles shrugged, “I prefer something a little less loud, if I’m honest.”

Dutch nodded, “I need to ask you something?” Dutch began hesitantly.

Charles looked up, “I’ll help if I can.”

Dutch sighed, and glanced across the camp at you.

“It’s Nizhoni. She wants me to remove the mark on her back. It seems a little...Barbaric. I just need to know what it means to her, why is it so important that its removed.”

Charles nodded. “Her people put that mark on her back for a reason. If any of her people were tempted to help her, they would see that and flee. The great serpent is a symbol of chaos, corruption and darkness. It is a Malevolent monster, anyone who carries its mark, is seen as a servant. They will bring nothing but bad luck and despair. Those that carry the mark know this. There only hope is a quick death, or for the mark to somehow be removed.”

Dutch shook his head, “they did that purposefully. Not enough that they abandoned her, they wanted to make sure that no one would help her, and that she wouldn't seek help.”

Charles nodded, “The way it was done, means it was unlikely to ever be removed, unless...”

Dutch stared at Charles, “go on...Unless what?”

Charles sighed, “the mark is burned deep. If it is to be removed, then the skin would have to be burnt deeper still. The pain it would cause would be almost unbearable. She would only ask this if...”

Charles stopped, and looked Dutch in the eye.

“If she wanted to have a life bond with that person.”


	16. Wanted

“No!” Susan screamed, “I won’t allow it! It’s… It’s barbaric!”

Susan stood in Dutch’s tent, glaring at him. Hosea looked on, his face expressionless.

“It’s what she wants, Susan,” Dutch replied, his voice hardly above a whisper, “it’s all she wants. If we don’t do this for her, we may as well have left her up in the mountains.”

Dutch sat on his cot, his fingers raking through his hair.

“I need you with me on this, all of you. You’re the only ones I trust to make sure she pulls through afterwards.”

Hosea, put his hand on Dutch’s shoulder, “we are,” he looked at Susan, “aren’t we Susan?”

Susan sighed, reluctantly, “yes, I suppose so.”

  
As Susan and Hosea left his tent, Dutch put his head in his hands. Was he really doing the right thing? After talking with Charles, he hadn’t had the chance to speak to you. You’d already headed back to your tent, no doubt with someone else’s assistance. He found out this morning, much to his relief, it had been one of the girls.

Josiah, had already realised that something wasn't right, and he’d headed back to his bolthole in Rhodes.

Everyone else, had enjoyed the party, singing along to Javier's guitar until the early hours of the morning. Dutch hadn’t minded, he couldn’t sleep anyway. Not after what Charles had told him.

You had chosen him, to do this. Because you trusted him, because you wanted to be with him, not just for now, but for good, for life.

Dutch couldn’t deny he was attracted to you. He had been the day he saw you. The only person before now, who he’d even considered spending the rest of his life with, was Annabelle. If he didn't do this, he would lose you. He wasn’t prepared to do that. Did that mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He honestly didn't know, but he felt something. He definitely more than liked you. He wanted to care fore you.

  
Dutch stood up, straightened his clothes, and opened the tent flaps. He looked across camp, and saw Charles, chopping wood. He walked straight over to him, with purpose.

“Charles!” he greeted.

Charles stopped chopping the wood, and looked at Dutch, waiting for him to speak.

“I want you to make the arrangements, anything you need, get it.”

Charles put the axe down, and nodded. “I can probably get everything organised for this evening, or tomorrow,” he stated.

Dutch nodded, “Thank you Charles, for everything.”

  
Dutch headed towards your tent. You currently had no idea of his discussions, with Hosea, Susan and Charles. As far as you were concerned, you were alone, stuck with the mark of the serpent. You couldn’t allow your curse to be passed onto to anyone your cared about.

Dutch opened the tent flap slightly

“Nizhoni?” He called gently, looking into the tent.

You sat on the cot, cross-legged. You squinted, it had become a bit of a habit. You knew who it was, the recognisable voice, the scent.

You looked up, but didn’t speak.

Dutch walked in, and sat on the edge of your cot.

He looked down at the floor, then he looked at you, “Nizhoni? Are you sure you want this? Want me to do this? I know what it means.”

You looked into his dark brown eyes, “Dutch take serpent?” you asked.

Dutch nodded, “If that's what you want, if you want me to do it, I will,” he whispered.

Tears started to pool in your eyes, “Nizhoni want only Dutch. Dutch like Nizhoni?” you asked.

Dutch took a deep breath, “No Nizhoni, I don't like you, I love you. If I didn't, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

You nodded, “Dutch good man, Nizhoni choose well.”

Dutch smiled, “do you need anything?”

You shook your head, “Nizhoni rest.”

Dutch nodded, “I’ll come and get you, when its time,”

“When is time?” you asked.

Dutch stood up, “soon, Charles is preparing what we need,” he whispered.

You watched him as he left your tent. You felt a tightness in your chest, you weren't expecting.

You wanted this, but there was no denying, you were afraid. Afraid of the pain, afraid it would some how kill you. The only thing you weren't afraid of, was that you had chosen the right man.

  
The camp was quiet and somewhat subdued for the rest of the day. Word had filtered down, and everyone knew what was going to happen. No one had ever seen anything like this before. There were fears that you could die, and despite not having known you for long, no one wanted that.

Susan had busied herself, getting medical supplies ready. The girls had given her space, as she seemed to be more snappy than usual.

Even Sean had remained fairly quiet. Probably because Karen had told him to be. All of the women had taken a liking to you, and knowing what you had been through so far, none of them felt this was very fair, even if it was what you wanted.

Of course no one said anything out loud. This was Dutch’s choice, and no one would gainsay him. They were all too fiercely loyal.

  
Around mid-day Charles was seen hitching his horse, returning from where-ever it was he had been. There was an urgency in his step, as he strode across the camp. Unusual for Charles, as he was usually so relaxed and calm.

He found Dutch, sitting on a chair outside of his tent. He appeared to be reading.

“Sorry to interrupt, Dutch,” Charles began.

Dutch looked up, “you’re not, I can’t seem to concentrate today,” he huffed. “Is everything going to plan… for later?” he asked hesitantly as he closed his book and placed it on the table.

Charles shook his head, “Not exactly. I went into Valentine. There are bounty posters up all over. Pictures of Nizhoni,” he hesitated, “she’s wanted for the murder of a soldier and his sister.”

Charles pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. A bounty poster, which he unfolded.

“It says she was last seen with two notorious members of the Van Der Linde gang, Dutch Van Der Linde and Arthur Morgan, who are thought to still be in the area.”

Dutch stood up, and grabbed the poster, reading it for himself.

“Did you see any bounty hunters or Pinkertons?” he asked.

Charles nodded, “bounty hunters, most were in the saloon asking questions, a couple coming out of the sheriffs office.

“Fuck!” Dutch growled under his breath, “Where’s Bill, stupid bastard cant do anything right!”

  
Dutch stormed across camp, looking for Bill. He was supposed to have dealt with Molly, so why did the law think Nizhoni had killed her. They were gonna have to move and fast. He spied Susan by the medical wagon.

“Susan, we’re gonna have to pack up and leave, sharpish!” he hissed.

Susan frowned, “What about Nizhoni, and this...thing you’re supposed to be doing?”

Dutch shook his head, “It’ll have to wait until we’re at the new camp, I’m not having her rattling around in the back of a wagon, if she’s injured like that!”

Susan nodded, “I’ll get everyone to start packing, where are we going?”

Dutch shrugged, “I don't know yet, as far away from Valentine as we can get!”

  
Dutch walked across camp, still in search of Bill. He needed to find out what the hell he had done, He didn't get much further, when he saw Arthur.

“What's going on Dutch, Susan says we’re packing up?”

Dutch nodded, “bounty hunters are on our trail, and on Nizhoni’s. They think she killed Molly!”

Arthur stared at Dutch, aghast. “I thought Bill had dealt with Molly?”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “as did I, son. As did I. I need you to take Charles, and find us a new camp. Head South, we need to put some distance in between us and Valentine.”

Arthur nodded, “what about Nizhoni, aren’t you supposed to be...”

Dutch shook his head, “you saw what happened the last time she lay in the back of the wagon, I ain’t gonna hurt her anymore than I need to. We’ll do what she wants, when we’re settled.”

Arthur nodded, he was about to head off to find Charles, when Lenny came galloping into camp.

“Where the hell have you been Lenny, and where the hell is Micah!” Dutch growled.

Lenny ran across to where the two men were standing, he was clearly out of breath.

“Micah… He’s been arrested… In Strawberry. They’re gonna hang him… for murder!” he gasped.

“What!” he rolled his eyes, “What the fuck else can go wrong!” he hissed.

Dutch turned to Arthur, “find Charles, find us a new place, then head over to Strawberry and get Micah. Take Lenny with you, to find the new camp, not to Strawberry.”

Arthur scowled, “you seriously want me to break Micah out of jail, he’s an idiot. You know what I think about him!”

Dutch closed his eyes, and sighed deeply, “please Arthur, just do as I ask, I’ve got enough shit to deal with, without you questioning my every move.”

Arthur through his hands in the air, “Ok, but I still think he’s an idiot! C’mon Lenny, we need to find a new camp!”

Dutch sighed again, and stood in the middle of camp, debating whether to continue his search for Bill, to berate him, or to go and talk to you.

He figured that what had happened wouldn't change, whether he spoke to Bill now or later.

He didn't want you to think that he’d changed his mind. He was about to head towards your tent, when he heard Bill behind him.

“Maybe she’s right, maybe she is cursed, maybe she is bringing us bad luck!” he hissed.

Dutch spun round, “You think!” he exploded, “I give you one job, and you cant even do that right. What did you do exactly, and why do they think that Nizhoni killed Molly?”

Bill shrugged, “I broke her neck, and chucked her in the river.”

Dutch shook his head, “You didn't think that if she got washed up, with her neck broke it might lead back to Nizhoni.”

Bill shrugged again, “I didn't think...” he began.

“No Bill, that's you all over, you never think! Now get out of my site before I do something I regret!”

Dutch turned away, shaking his head, trying to calm himself before he reached your tent.

  
When Dutch entered your tent for the second time that day, you were sleeping.

He knew that you didn't want him to touch you, not until the deed was done, so he gently shook the cot and called your name.

“Nizhoni, sweetheart, wake up,” he called softly.

You slowly roused from your sleep, opening your eyes. Your vision was still impaired, but the blurriness was becoming less. You could see that it was Dutch standing there, able to see his dark hair, rather than just a figure.

You sat up, still slightly groggy.

“I’m sorry Nizhoni, we have to move camp. I wont go back on my word, I’ll still do what you want, but it’ll have to wait until we’re at the new camp,” he explained.

You frowned, “why go. This place good.”

“I know,” he sighed, sitting down on the edge of the cot. He was desperate to touch you, even if it was just to hold your hand, but he knew you wouldn’t want that.

“The sheriff thinks you killed Molly. There are bounty hunters in Valentine, and wanted posters up everywhere. I need to keep you safe,” Dutch concluded.

“Nizhoni not kill Molly!” You wailed.

Dutch nodded, “I know, I know. I just need to keep you safe, then we can get rid of your serpent. You do trust me don’t you?”

“Nizhoni trust Dutch. Dutch take away serpent with fire.” you stated.

“Good,” Dutch replied, “Charles is helping me to prepare, he know about your lores and customs. In the meantime, I’ll ask Abigail or Tilly to help you onto the wagon.

You frowned, “Dutch not tie in back of wagon?”

Dutch chuckled, “No, I’ll not tie you up, you can sit up front with me.”


	17. The Ceremony

The trip from horseshoe overlook was all but made in silence. By the time Lenny arrived back, you had been lead to the wagon by Tilly, and all that remained to pack up, were the tents.

Dutch drove the wagon, and as promised, you sat beside him. Neither of you spoke. He knew what a serious undertaking this was, and he also knew how much this was going to hurt you. But it was what you wanted.

Lenny rode ahead, guiding the convoy of wagons. He dropped back once to ride next to Dutch.

“What's going on Dutch? I left Charles at the new camp, and he’s doing some weird stuff.” Lenny questioned.

Dutch sighed, “Don’t worry about it son, it’s complicated, but Charles… He knows what he’s doing.”

Dutch glanced at you, but his face was expressionless. You had a feeling he didn’t know exactly what he was going to be expected to do. You were pretty sure that Charles would tell him, when the time came. He’d already told you that Charles knew what your lore and customs were.

He looked back at Lenny, “did Arthur go for Micah?”

Lenny nodded, glanced at you and carried on leading the convoy.

After about an hour, Lenny turned up a secluded path, through some trees. Not unlike the path which lead to Horseshoe overlook.

The sun was beginning to sit lower in the sky, although it wasn’t yet beginning to set.

Charles walked over to the wagons as they came to a halt.

He looked up at Dutch, “do you want to do this tonight, there should be time before the sun sets?” he asked.

Dutch glanced at you, then at Charles.

“Yes, I want to get this over with as soon as I can,” he glanced at you, “for both of us.”

Charles nodded. “Then you better walk with me, so I can explain how it will go.”

Dutch nodded, and climbed off the wagon.

He looked up at you, “stay there Nizhoni, until its time?”

You nodded. You gripped onto the seat of the wagon, with your good hand. Your heart beating faster than normal. You knew all to well what was going to happen. You had been through it before with your people in the mountains. Last time, you were dragged kicking and screaming. Control taken away from you. This time you were giving control to someone else to do exactly the same, which was a lot more frightening.

Dutch called across to Susan, “Can you get my tent setup first, then the medical supplies sorted?”

Susan glanced at you then back at Dutch and nodded, before chivvying everyone up to get working.

Dutch then continued his walk with Charles. You hoped that Dutch wouldn’t change his mind when he realised what he would have to do.

Everyone in the gang knew what you had asked Dutch to do, and why. They knew as much as Dutch about the actual ceremony, which wasn't much. That was of course, with the exception of Charles.

As you sat on the wagon, you heard footsteps and looked down to see Abigail.

She went to touch you with her hand, a comforting gesture, but you quickly moved away.

“I’m sorry,” she began, “I forgot,” she hesitated, “I’m sorry Nizhoni, I cant stay. I don't want Jack to see this, I hope you understand,” she concluded, her voice cracking.

You couldn’t see her clearly, but you guessed by the tone of her voice that she was upset.

“Nizhoni understand. Boy too young to watch,” you agreed.

Abigail lowered her head, trying to contain the tears that were pooling in her eyes.

“You’re such a good person, Nizhoni. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

You gripped the seat a bit tighter, your chest feeling a little tight.

“go, take boy and go,” you asserted, you voice breaking as much as Abigail’s.

You watched Abigail walk towards the horses, but you were surprised when you glanced down and heard John.

“Nizhoni,” he started. “I know we didn't get off to a good start, but you saved my life. I ain't ever gonna forget that. If anyone can get through this, you can.”

You smiled, “Scar look good, John Marston.”

John chuckled, as he touched his cheek with his fingers. His face took on a more serious expression.

“I wish I could be here, to support you in some way, but I have to look after Abigail and Jack.”

You nodded, “John Marston look after family, No wolves in Rhodes.”

John nodded, “Ya know Nizhoni, we really don't deserve you,” he added, as he walked to where Abigail was waiting for him with Jack.

He glanced back to look at you. He knew you thought you had brought bad luck because of the mark on your back. To be fair a lot of things had happened. He had been mauled by wolves, Micah had set Sadie’s house on fire, then got arrested for murder. You’d been arrested and now bounty hunters were looking for you, as well as Arthur and Dutch because they thought you had murdered Molly. It could be a load of superstitious clap trap. Whether it was or not, you were prepared to go through this agony, to try and stem the bad luck. You were either very stupid, or very brave. He was beginning to think it was the latter.

Dutch and Charles returned from the walk along the shoreline. Dutch looked significantly paler, than when he had left you in the wagon.

He walked over to where Hosea was standing.

“Can you hold this for me,” he asked, removing his jacket.

Hosea frowned, “is everything ok, you look… Well you don’t look very well.”

Dutch rolled his eyes, and started to roll up his sleeves.

“I never thought I’d be doing this to someone I really cared about!”

Hosea hummed, “its not too late to...” he started.

“Yes it is,” Dutch interrupted, “she needs this, she’s terrified but she’s doing it anyway. She doesn't think that there's any other way. Its fucking religious crap, but its her fucking religious crap. Once this is done… At least she wont think she’s possessed by some serpent demon!”

Hosea frowned, “what?”

Dutch rolled his eyes. “Its what they believe. A great serpent...Snake, from the underworld sees the mark, and sends a demon so that anyone she touches gets bad luck. If she’d survived in the mountains, and her tribe had taken her back, they would have done this to her. At least with us, she has a better chance of surviving.”

Hosea nodded, “do you still have the medicine the doctor gave you?”

Dutch nodded, and pulled the phial from his pocket, and handed it to Hosea.

Hosea examined the bottle, “liquid morphine. As soon as this is over, and she’s in your tent, give her a dose.”

Dutch nodded, and put the phial back in his waistcoat pocket.

“Once I’ve done this, I’m the only one who’s allowed to touch her, until she’s in my tent. I want you and Susan ready, as soon as I put her on my cot.”

Hosea nodded, “understood.”

Dutch sighed and walked over to where Charles was standing.

“Lets get this done, Charles,” he stated.

Charles walked over to the wagon, where you were sitting.

“Nizhoni? Are you ready?”

You nodded. You climbed from the back of the wagon. Charles had already gone to the back of the wagon, where some of your stuff had been stowed.

He picked up your bow, quiver full of arrows and your knife. He gave them to you.

“Follow me, the path is clear, I wont touch you,” he advised.

You followed Charles to a small clearing in front of the scout camp fire.

Dutch was already there, holding something in the flames.

In the clearing, stakes had already been hammered into the ground.

You placed your bow to the left and your arrows to the right. Your knife you placed at one end, the end you were facing. You started to remove your clothes, and these were place behind you.

Other members of the gang, were watching. Most at a distance.

Sean stood with Karen, when he saw your clothes being removed, his jaw dropped.

“Jesus, that Dutch is one lucky bastard,” he scoffed.

Karen thumped him on the arm, “shut your gob, this ain't no laughing matter!” she hissed.

Susan who was standing next to Mary-Beth, looked at how pale she was.

“You don’t have to watch, if you’d rather not,” she whispered.

Mary-Beth nodded, but looked on regardless.

Hosea, had already averted his eyes. He stayed where he was, more to support Dutch than anything.

Javier, stood next to Tilly, his arm gently wrapped around her.

“Don’t look Chica, if you don't want to,” he soothed, But Tilly also stayed put.

You Knelt down and raised your arms skyward.

You began to speak in your own language.

Dutch looked at you, even though he didn't know what you were saying, he felt that the words had real meaning to you, and the sound of your voice, brought a lump to his throat.

You began;

_O Great Spirit_

_whose voice I hear in the winds,_

_and whose breath gives life_

_to all the world hear me!_

_I am small and weak_

_I need your strength and wisdom._

_Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset_

_Make my hands respect the things you have made and my ears sharp to hear your voice._

_Make me wise so that I may understand the things you have taught my people._

_Let me learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf and rock._

_I seek strength not to be greater than my brother, but to fight my greatest enemy...myself._

_Make me always ready to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes._

_So when life fades as the fading sunset, my spirit may come to you without shame._

Once you had finished speaking, you lowered your arms. You looked at Charles and nodded, before laying flat on your stomach.

At this point, Dutch walked towards you.

He slipped the loop of a rope around your wrist, securing the other end tightly to one of the stakes.

You winced as the rope cut into your flesh.

He continued and did this to your other wrist and your ankles.

The rope between you and the stakes were pulled taught, making it impossible for you to move.

You turned your head towards you bow.

Dutch walked to your head, and crouched down.

“Open your mouth Nizhoni,” he whispered.

You complied, and he gently place a piece of wood between your teeth.

Standing up he walked back to the fire. You could hear him moving something in the flames. You knew what it was, you bit down on the wood, trying to prepare yourself for the pain to come.

As Dutch had walked back to the fire, Arthur and Micah had arrived at the new camp. Walking from the hitching posts, Micah had stared at the sight before him.

“What the fuck is Dutch doing to that redskin!” he exclaimed.

“Shut the fuck up Micah, or I’ll hang you myself,” Arthur retorted, punching Micah in the shoulder.

Before he had a chance to reply, he watched Dutch walk over to you, with something metal in his hand. It was glowing white hot!

Dutch stared at you, even like this you were beautiful, he watched as you breathed, you were trembling. Your ribs poking through your skin with each inhale. The doctor was right, you were pitifully thin.

Dutch glanced at Charles, as he swallowed down the bile that was rising in his throat.

Charles nodded his head.

Dutch rammed the white hot metal circular disk, attached to the end of the pole, down onto your back, covering the mark that was already there.

The sound that came from you would have been enough to scare the hounds of hell back to hades.

It was guttural and raw.

Every muscle in your body stiffened, as unimaginable pain ripped through your body.

Dutch held the burning metal disk on your back, for what seemed like an eternity, until Charles gave him the nod to remove it.

The smell of burning flesh was rancid, and Dutch turned his head away, not only because of the smell, but because he couldn’t stand to look at what he had done.

The gentle breeze that blew across the camp, wafted the smell to the onlookers.

Bizarrely at same time as Dutch thrust the burning metal onto your back, a low grumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, and a streak of lightening cracked on the mountains in the distance.

Mary-Beth and Susan, had looked away, the minute Dutch picked up the brand.

Tilly, had screamed, and buried her head into Javier’s chest, sobbing. Karen had wrapped her arms around Sean, burying her head in his chest. She didn't cry, she was completely silent.

Sean looked towards the mountains, “hope that struck the fuckers that did this to her,” he hissed, quietly.

In truth, it had all been over in less than ten seconds, but to you and the onlookers it seemed much longer.

Dutch flung the brand at the fire, as Charles handed him a wooden cup, intricately decorated with the morning star. It was filled with water. Dutch didn't have time to think about the symbolism, which Charles had told him earlier was a sign of courage, and purity of spirit. He just poured the water, over the burn mark on your back. Still hot, it hissed, and steam rose.

Dutch looked momentarily at the place where your mark had been, the serpent mark had been erased, replaced with a blank circle, burnt into your back.

He quickly ran to where your knife lay. Picking it up, he sliced through the ropes.

Your whole body, had begun to shake.

“Quickly,” Charles hissed, “she’s going into shock!”

Dutch quickly picked you up, being careful not to touch the newly made mark on your back, and ran to his tent.

Hosea was already there holding the flap open.

Dutch put you on the cot, laying on your stomach. Your teeth were still clenched tight on the wood.

He gently stroked your face. As he did your jaw relaxed, the wood dropped out of your mouth, and you started to sob.

“I know, Nizhoni, I’m so sorry.” he soothed.

Dutch quickly pulled the phial out of his pocket.

“Nizhoni, sweetheart, I need you to open your mouth,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes, gasping for breath between sobs, you opened your mouth.

Dutch dropped some of the liquid on your tongue, which you swallowed.

“Gone?” you rasped.

Dutch stroked your face, “Yes Nizhoni, its gone.”

Your eyelids began to flutter, as the painkilling drug took effect.

Dutch gently kissed your forehead, as Hosea and Susan walked into the tent, armed with medical supplies to tend the wound on your back.


	18. A Difficult Patient

The morphine which Dutch gave you, sent you into a blissfully pain free sleep. Not that you were free from pain, but your unconscious mind blotted it out. The brand on your back was the equivalent of putting your hand in a fire. When you remove it, your hand still burns. It was the same with your back.

Whilst you were unconscious, Susan and Hosea also worked their magic. Putting a cooling balm on the injury site, and dressing it, in an attempt to ward off any infection. They did a better job than your own people had done the first time around.

Of course the first time around, you had been in the mountains, in the snow. With very little clothing. For the first couple of days you had eased the pain with ice. Now in the southern humidity of Lemoyne, there was no such option, so your morphine induced sleep was the next best option.

  
Dutch stroked your face, he watched as Hosea and Susan dressed the wound on your back.

“What have I done, Hosea. What if she dies?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Hosea rested a hand on Dutch’s shoulder.

“She’s young, and strong. The next few hours will tell, but it’s what she wanted, Dutch. She wouldn’t have been happy, isolating herself. She probably would have died of a broken heart!”

Dutch sighed, and gently brushed a loose strand of hair from your face.

“If she dies, I don't know how...”

“She’s not gonna die, Dutch!” Hosea interrupted, as he stood up. “We’re done here now, she’ll sleep the morphine will see to that, and you should get some rest too. If she wakes, make sure to get her to drink. She needs plenty of water.”

Dutch nodded, and watched as Hosea and Susan left the tent, closing the flap behind them.

Dutch started to undress, once he was down to just his trousers, he slipped onto the cot beside you. Adjusting your sleeping form, so that your head rested on his chest, and his arm wrapped around you.

He gently pressed his lips to your forehead, and closed his eyes. Physical and nervous exhaustion allowing him to drift off to sleep beside you.

  
It was the early hours of the morning when you first stirred. The morphine induced sleep, slowly wearing off, although the pain killing effects had dulled the pain.

The warmth of his chest radiated against your bare skin, providing comfort. You had never laid with Dutch, completely naked, but it felt natural, right.

Dutch had woken, as soon as he felt you stir. Felt your hand move and gently rest on his chest, next to your head.

He stroked your cheek, “Nizhoni?”

You opened your eyes, “Dutch save Nizhoni,” you croaked. Then you let out a small cough, wincing slightly at the movement.

Dutch reached over to the table beside the cot, and grabbed a canteen of water.

“Here, drink this,” he whispered.

You lifted your head, and he gently put the top to your lips, tilted it slightly so the water drizzled into your mouth.

You drank several mouthfuls before lowering your head back to his chest.

“Do you need anything for the pain?” Dutch whispered.

You shook your head, “Nizhoni need Dutch.”

Dutch stroked your face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You gently pressed your lips to his chest.

Dutch smiled, “you should try and sleep.”

You trailed your fingers along his chest, feeling the hardness of his chest muscles.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he scolded, “they’ll be plenty of time for that when your healed,”

you stopped, and placed your hand flat against his chest, even though you longed to carry on, you knew he was right.

“Dutch kiss Nizhoni?” you pleaded.

Dutch smiled, and kissed your forehead.

“No,” you countered, “Dutch kiss Nizhoni,” you touched your lips.

“Then you’ll go to sleep?” he coaxed.

You nodded, and tilted your head upwards.

Dutch’s lips gently pressed against your own, and for the first time, you kissed him back.

It was Dutch who pulled away. Not wanting to, but knowing you should be resting.

“Your just too god-damn perfect,” he purred, “now go to sleep!”

You smiled, closing your eyes. You licked your lips, relishing the taste of him. As your head lay on his chest, you listened to the beat of his heart.

He gently stroked your forehead. The warmth of he touch, and the beat of his heart, slowly easing you back to sleep.

  
As the sun rose, Dutch slid off of the cot, gently sliding you from his chest onto the cot. You were still sleeping soundly. He watched you carefully as he dressed, but you didn't stir.

His next priority was to get you some food.

He wasn't sure, what had occurred outside his tent, after he had carried you inside, and Hosea and Susan had treated your wounds. He was pleased to see that the camp was completely setup now. Your clothes and other things, had been laid just outside his tent. There seemed no need now for you to have a separate one. Everyone knew that after the previous days events, that you and Dutch were together.

Dutch walked over to the table where Hosea was sitting.

“How is she?” he asked.

Dutch nodded, “better than I expected, she woke in the night, so I gave her some water. She’s sleeping.”

Hosea nodded, “we need to try and get some food into her, and you can give her some more morphine if she needs it.” he added.

Dutch nodded, “that's if she’ll take it, I’ve a funny feeling she ain't gonna be a very good patient,” he smirked.

Hosea frowned, “she needs to rest...” he hesitated, “I know she’s beautiful and...well you have needs, but you need to let her heal!”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “I know! You might need to tell her that.” Dutch sighed, “you know Hosea, that ceremony, wasn't just about removing the serpent?”

Hosea nodded, a smirk appearing on his face, “I know, I spoke with Charles. That's why I said, take it easy, at least for a couple of days.”

Hosea chuckled, “I just hope she doesn't wear you out!”

  
Dutch smiled, and walked over to where Charles was sitting.

“How is she?” Charles asked.

“Better than I had expected,” Dutch began, “I was wondering if you could suggest anything for her to eat, to help with the healing?”

Charles nodded, “I’ll cook her some meat, easier to eat than stew, and I’ll season it with some healing herbs.”

Dutch nodded, and put his hand on Charles shoulder, “Thank you Charles, for everything.”

Charles just nodded, and walked towards Pearson's wagon. Hopefully he would find some meat he could use.

  
You slept well past sunrise. Whether it was your body trying to heal, or the remnants of the sleep inducing morphine, you didn't know.

What you did know, as that you were no longer pressed against Dutch’s chest. Nor was his hand gently stroking your face or forehead.

He wasn’t far away however, so that when you tried to push yourself into a sitting position, he rushed over to the cot and scolded you.

“Oh no you don’t, young lady. You need to rest!” he scolded.

You winced slightly at the effort. “Nizhoni not sleep all day,” you pouted.

Dutch smirked, “you will, if I say you will. You’re not getting up for a coupled of days, at least.”

“Nizhoni hungry,” you complained. You weren’t actually that hungry, you just hoped that it would give you an excuse to get out of the tent for a few moments.

Dutch frowned, and then smiled. Guessing your antics.

“Just as well I have some food here for you then!”

Dutch came and sat on the edge of the cot. Charles had cooked some venison, infused with healing herbs. Dutch wasn't sure which herbs, but he trusted Charles.

You managed to prop yourself up on one elbow.

Dutch pulled a piece of meat from the plate.

“Open up then!” he smirked.

You frowned, not really wanting to be fed, but having little option, you opened your mouth.

Dutch popped a bit of meat in your mouth. It tasted good, although you couldn't quite place the flavour.

Once you had finished the first morsel, Dutch offered you a second, your tongue darted across his fingers, as he placed the meat in your mouth. Your eyes twinkled mischievously. As you ate the meat.

When you’d finished the last morsel, you ran your tongue over your lips.

  
Dutch chuckled, putting the plate to one side, he leaned into you, cupping your face in his hand, and pressing his lips to yours. His tongue darted across your lips. As they parted, his tongue explored your mouth. You tasted him properly for the first time, as his tongue dominated yours and your lips moved in sync. His kiss was deep and passionate, and left you gasping for breath, once it ended.

“Now will you rest?” he chided.

You smiled and nodded, looking into his eyes.

“Dutch rest with Nizhoni?” you asked.

Dutch chuckled, “if I rest with you, I doubt whether either of us will get much rest. Sleep now, and I’ll come and sit with you later.”

You closed your eyes, that was probably going to be the best offer you were going to get, so you closed your eyes, and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
